One More Year
by Trekkiehood
Summary: Foster kid Jack Kelly has one year between him and freedom. All he has to do is keep a low profile and stay out of the way of his abusive foster dad. Then he was forced into the drama program, partnered with two nosy smart kids, and somehow gained the protection of the captain of the football team. Suddenly, staying under the radar becomes much more difficult. Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**And here I am, once again starting a new fic. I've mainly written short one-shots for this fandom, but couldn't resist the urge to write a Foster Care AU.**

**This was largely inspired by SomedayonBroadway on Ao3. Everything they have written is amazing. You should check their stories out!**

**WARNING: Child Abuse, Dissociation, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Child Neglect, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks  
****Read with caution.**

**And as always, please enjoy and comment!**

**~TH~**

_One more year. Just one more year. One year and I'm out. Just one more year. _He repeated it like a mantra. Like it was the only thing keeping him alive. The world was in the background, the only real thing was the promise of escape and the deep breaths he was forcing himself to take.

His back slammed against the wall and the world slowly started to come back into focus. He immediately noticed the pain throughout his body as hands pinned him by the shoulders. There was something dripping from his nose.

A hand smacked his face to the side. "Are you listening to me, boy?"

Jack blinked, drawing in a shaky breath. "Yes, Mr Snyder." His voice was hoarse. _Oh please tell me I wasn't screaming._

"Listen here Kelly, you're lucky that I agreed to take you in. No one else wanted you. So you best keep your mouth in check and stay out of my way!" Jack could smell the alcohol coming off of his breath but couldn't getaway.

"Yes, sir." He managed to say, forcing himself not to cry out now that he was back in the present and feeling every bruise he had been left with.

Snyder pulled him from the wall and shoved him towards the back room. "I don't want to see you again tonight." Jack stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He didn't respond as he made his way into the one place in the apartment that offered relative safety.

The room was mostly empty. There was a twin-sized mattress in the corner, there used to be a frame, but it had snapped when Jack had been thrown into it a few months prior. There was a floor-length mirror sitting against the single dresser and a nightstand with a small lamp beside the bed. A small window led to a fire escape down the back of the building.

Jack looked at his backpack begrudgingly. He should really at least try to do some of his homework. He ran his sleeve under his nose, minorly surprised to see it come back red. He sighed, pulling off his light blue sweater, holding the sleeve against the nosebleed. It didn't take long for it to stop. Dropping the shirt to the floor, he looked at himself in the mirror. There was blood crusted around his nose made even brighter by the dark circles under his eyes, at least Snyder hadn't completely blackened them. A nasty bruise was forming on his cheek. He had a few dark bruises covering his abdomen, but nothing he couldn't handle.

He grabbed a plain white t-shirt, slipping it on. The thin material did little to warm him from the November cold, but he didn't want to risk ruining his other school shirt while one had enough blood to warrant questioning.

With another sigh, Jack threw his backpack onto the bed. He had just opened the bag when his phone started vibrating. Jack pulled the small rectangle out of his pocket, it couldn't do much but text, call, and download music, but he was just thankful to have one. Looking at the caller ID, he cleared his throat before answering.

"Hey Charlie,"

There was almost an immediate answer, "Hiya Jack!"

"What's up with you, kid?" He found himself smiling at his younger brother's voice.

"I got new crutches! They're forearm crutches, the doctor said it will make me more independent."

"Nice." He paused, "How'd you get them?" He didn't want to press, but new things were rare in a group home. They took care of you, but only the necessities.

"They're for my birthday next week. Since I went to the doctor today they said I could get them now. They're real nice too, red instead of just plain silver!" The boy was turning fifteen. Jack could hardly believe it,

"That's pretty cool, kid." He moved a bit too fast, causing him to hiss in pain.

"Are you okay?" Charlie's tone changed to worried. "Has your foster dad been beatin' on you again?"

"I'm fine, Crutchie, don't worry about it." He ran a hand over his face, flinching slightly when it brushed the tender skin.

There was silence for a moment. "This is my fault, Jack."

"No. Don't say that. It ain't your fault."

"But if you hadn't been standin' up for me, they never would've kicked you out and you wouldn'tve ended up with Snyder!"

"Hey, you can't talk like that. I'd do it again. It ain't your fault. It's those boys who were pickin' on you, ya hear?" He took a calming breath, not wanting to get so loud that Snyder heard him.

Charlie stayed silent before whispering, "Okay Jack."

"Hey, just another year, right? Soon as I turn eighteen I'm out of here. I'll get custody and we'll get a nice place of our own, yeah?"

"Yeah." There was a sad smile in the younger kid's voice. "Hey, I gotta go, I'll call ya again tomorrow."

"Take care of yourself Crutch, and don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"Okay," He sounded unconvinced. The next phrase was said in a near whisper. "Love ya, Jackie."

Jack took a calming breath, closing his eyes, "Love ya too, Charlie."

The phone clicked, signalling the end of the call. He dropped the phone onto the bed, leaning against the wall. His head was killing him. His stomach wasn't all too pleased with him either. Jack found himself wishing that he had grabbed something from the cafeteria. They wouldn't miss an apple, right? Free lunches were great, but that was one meal. Sometimes Snyder would leave food in the kitchen, but not often enough to count on. And it only did him any good if the Spider passed out early. It didn't matter. He'd be fine. He could wait until tomorrow so long as he didn't think about it. _Just don't think about it Kelly, do something to distract yourself._

Jack looked at his homework, still in his backpack, it would distract him... His head continued to viciously pound. He then zipped it back up and dropped the bag onto the floor. He curled into the thin blanket even though he knew it was pointless. He didn't sleep much anymore.

**~TH~**

**And that my friends, is part one. The chapters will be shorter for the most part. I like them better that way personally. If you'd like to see anything particular, you can let me know here or on Tumblr. Can't make any promises, but would love to hear any ideas! I'm open from prompts too... so don't be afraid to come say hi!**

**Hope you enjoyed this and I shall see you relatively soon!**

**Be sure to let me know what you guys think! Also, don't be afraid to come yell at me, say hi on, or leave a prompt on Tumblr.**

**Trekkiehood**

**God bless,**  
**Jamie Dawn**


	2. Chapter 2

His alarm went off at exactly 5:45 a.m. Jack sat up, breathing heavy. He desperately grabbed at his phone, turning off the alarm before it woke up Snyder. He held his breath, mentally counting to ten, waiting to hear footsteps coming down the hall. When Jack was sure that no one was coming, he let out a breath and ran a hand over his face. There was really no winning in this situation. Set the alarm and risk waking up Snyder, don't set an alarm and risk being late and Snyder finding him asleep. Both were equally terrifying.

Trying to keep silent as his aching body protested, he pushed himself out of bed. He'd gotten at least an hour of sleep last night, maybe two. He was tired, no questioning that, but you learn to sleep light when you could have someone barge into your room at any hour of night because he needs a punching bag.

Jack grabbed his bloody shirt from the night before and silently opened the door. He tiptoed to the bathroom where he shut the door and turned on the light. He stared at himself in the mirror. Not the worst he'd looked. Not bad enough to miss school at least.

Using the clean sleeve of his shirt, he washed his face, making sure to clean off the dried blood. When that was done, he soaked the shirt in the water, rubbing handsoap into the stains.

When the shirt was as clean as it was going to get, he made his way back to his room. Flipping the light on, he pulled out his only other long sleeve shirt. He still had some bruises on his arms and even if he did wear his sweatshirt all day, it was cold. The sweater was thin and grey. If Charlie saw him he would tease him for looking like a nerd. Jack didn't care. Any warmth was welcome. He debated changing his pants, but the jeans he had worn the day before would work just as well. These were newer, less worn out, maybe it would offer a little bit more warmth.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair, hoping to make it look at least semi-tamed. He opened the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of liquid foundation. It was the one thing Snyder had never had a problem buying for him. After all, he wouldn't want CPS to be called and take away his favourite punching bag.

The makeup had become a permanent fixture in his life. He was a pro at putting on enough to cover the bruises and still have it look natural. When he was finished, he put the rest of the bottle in the side pocket of his backpack, removing the empty bottle he had finished off the day before.

He pulled on his sweatshirt. He had found it in the lost and found box the previous year. It was a medium shade of grey, which was fine. He actually preferred to stay under the radar. Bright colours attracted attention. Dark clothes were always a safer option.

Jack pulled on a pair of old tennis shoes. They weren't much. The soles were almost worn through and he was on his third set of shoelaces, but they worked well enough. He took the dripping shirt he had washed and set it to hang over the mirror. He gave one last glance around the room, making sure everything of any importance was hidden away. The cellphone was slipped into his sweatshirt pocket and the threadbare blanket on his matress was folded and placed in a drawer. With a final nod, he turned away.

It was barely 6:30 when Jack crawled out the window. School didn't start for almost two hours, he had time. Climbing to the roof was difficult with his aching ribs. He hadn't gotten a beating like last night in a while and to be honest, he still wasn't exactly sure what he did. It was worth the pain when he got to the top. It was still relatively dark, but it was quiet and he was alone. He pulled out a mostly full sketchbook and a wooden pencil. He had tried to start using mechanical pencils, but they just didn't feel right in his hand. The streaks were too small and didn't have as much… character.

Next out was a pair of a large, silver and black, headphones. They were probably the most expensive thing he owned. They weren't wireless but they had a long enough chord that it worked. His phone didn't have Bluetooth anyway. The headphones were a gift from one of the older boys at the group home before they aged out. He closed his eyes and let the music wash over him before looking up and putting his pencil to the paper.

As the sun began to rise, Jack stopped sketching and looked up. The colours were magical. Every morning it gave him a small glimpse of hope. A hope that maybe things would get better. He looked down at the paper. It was a half-finished drawing of Crutchie. The younger boy was smiling in a way that always sent a spark of joy into all that saw it. Jack had just started adding the forearm crutches sitting at the boy's feet. Charlie had been so excited the day before.

Jack felt another pang in his heart. He wished he could give his brother something for his birthday, but the way things were going, he wouldn't even be able to see him. He wasn't sure if he wanted Crutchie to see him anyway. He may have been younger, but he was the only person who could read Jack. And he was always accurate.

Jack closed his eyes, tilting his head up. He just let the warmth of the sun wash over him for a moment. After a moment, he sighed, glancing at the time. 7:30. He bit his lip, looking back up at the sun. What he wouldn't give to just stay out here all day. He could just forget about school and Snyder and everything else that was always so wrong in his life. But school meant food, even if it was little more than a prison.

He slipped his sketchbook into his backpack, sticking the pencil in the mesh siding. Headphones up and music blaring, he slipped bag onto his back and climbed back down the fire escape.

**~TH~**

**And Jackie has a good morning. Unfortunately, the rest of the day will not go quite as well.**

**Please let me know what you think of this! Any tips/comments on characterization and such always welcome.**

**Thank you for reading 3**

**God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry, this took so long. This chapter is quite a bit longer than I usually write, so maybe that will make up for it.**

**Just a small note, I changed the setting from November to January because I didn't want to have to deal with holidays.**  
**Anyway, please enjoy!**

**~TH~**

Jack ducked into his third period class, making his way to the back of the classroom. His headphones were sitting around his neck, the chord hidden down his shirt. The room was loud, but it always was. The noise made him slightly uncomfortable. There was too much going on for his brain to really process. His only goal at school was to not be seen and make sure they never had a reason to call his guardian.

He was thankful that it was a study hall. It was the only time he really got any sleep. He pulled up his headphones, not even paying attention to which song started playing. He put his head on the desk and let himself fall asleep.

~N~

He jolted awake, breathing heavily. A teacher stared at him. She seemed to look frightened. Her hand was resting lightly on his shoulder. Jack jerked the headphones down, not sure exactly what was going on.

"Jack?" The teacher, Ms Bowry, said kindly. "I'm sorry to wake you, but the office just called and said they needed to speak to you."

Jack could feel all of the colour drain from his face. He was in trouble. He wasn't even sure exactly what he did. Maybe they had caught him grabbing stuff from the cafeteria last week. Or someone saw the bruises. He hadn't hidden them well enough and now people were talking. That was somehow worse.

"I'll uh, I"ll go then." He stood up, grabbing his bag.

Ms Bowry stepped back, but the look of concern didn't leave her face. He couldn't worry about that. He had enough problems to deal with.

The walk to the office was agonizing. He raked through his mind trying to find a reason he was being called. He'd been careful. Sure, he'd stolen things. He'd stolen food, and paper, and even the occasional lost and found object. But he hadn't in a while. And he had never gotten caught.

It could be about his home life. Before Snyder he had been homeschooled, but it wasn't uncommon those first several months to be called into the office to talk about how things were, how he was adjusting. It was then that he had realized that he was actually a pretty good liar. Not that that was something he should be proud of, but it was useful. Plus, they asked the question, but they never seemed to actually care. They never checked, or looked me in the eye or did anything to truly make sure he was okay. Maybe if they had he...

He didn't want to go down that line. It would just make things worse for him. The less he thought about it the better things would be. Sure, things were getting worse. Snyder was getting more violent, more angry over the smallest infraction. Jack wasn't even always sure what he had done. But there was no reason to think about it. He was stuck in the position he was in with no getting out for now. He could make it this last year.

He stood awkwardly outside the door to the principal's office. After a long moment, he finally gathered the courage to knock on the door. He heard a muffled "Come in,". Jack took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.

Mr Kloppman looked up from his desk, offering a brief smile. Jack relatively like Mr Kloppman. He was an older gentleman, late fifties, early sixties, and had been at the school for years. He was generally well liked among the students and faculty, however, he was known to occasionally be oblivious. Regardless, he always seemed to have the best interest of the school at heart.

Jack stood behind one of the two chairs in front of the desk. He held his right arm while his left hung loosely to the side. "Uh, you wanted to see me?"

Kloppman looked up, "Yes! Please, take a seat."

Jack did what he was told. There was a long pause of silence while the principal looked through some papers. "Um, am I in trouble or somethin'? I swear I haven't done nothin' wrong." He cursed silently, whenever he was nervous, he tended to revert back to street talk, slurring his words together in an improper way. It was a habit he had mostly abandoned once he started school, but it still came up on occasion.

"No, no of course not." Kloppman looked up with a reassuring smile, "I just wanted to talk to you about your schedule."

"My schedule?" Jack repeated, unsure of what he meant.

"Yes, this is your second year here, correct?"

"Uh, yeah."

Kloppman nodded, "I was looking through your file and noticed that you don't have an elective. People usually pick one freshman year, but since you didn't come until you were a sophomore, it was overlooked."

"Elective? Like football and art and stuff like that."

"Precisely. I know it's second semester, but if you wish to graduate on time, you'll need to start taking one."

Jack didn't actually care much about graduating. He was going to turn eighteen next December and had no intentions of continuing school after that. His only intention after that was to get Charlie and go. Where? He didn't know. But he was getting out of the city.

"It looks like the only open elective is drama class," Kloppman handed Jack a piece of paper, "Just sign your name there and you'll be added to the class. It's third period, so you won't have a study hall."

Jack nodded, signing the paper. He could say goodbye to sleeping.

Kloppman smiled, taking the paper, "Wonderful, you can start tomorrow, go on and get ready for your fourth period class."

With a quick nod, Jack left the office.

~N~

Lunch was the only good thing about school. Free school lunches were not something every kid got to enjoy. The fact that he was a Foster Kid put him at the top of the list for free food and it was something that he was thankful for. Without it, he had to wonder if he'd eat at all.

The food wasn't good. It never was. But it was edible and it made him less hungry. That's what mattered.

He pushed up from his seat, tray in hand. He was the lone occupant of a table at the far corner of the room. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of making friends. He probably could if he tried. But, Snyder didn't like for him to talk to people. Jack wasn't exactly sure how he would find out if he talked to people at school, but it was better not to risk it. Better just to do whatever the man said then to risk his anger.

"Oh look, it's Kelly."

Jack tensed as he heard the call from behind him.

"Heard you signed up for drama. That's nice. Maybe you could play a trashcan. It'd be a very fitting role." A kid was sitting on top of a table, several others crowded around him. They all laughed almost as if on demand.

Jack had no clue how they knew he was in drama, but it didn't matter. He had heard worse insults and the kids were just trying to get him riled up. He turned away, and kept walking.

"Hey!" Someone grabbed his arm and spun him around. "I'm talkin' ta ya!" The boy had moved and was now tightly squeezing Jack's arm. Using his other hand, he knocked the tray out of Jack's hand. "I don't like bein' ignored."

Jack remained silent. He couldn't afford to get into a fight. That would look bad, He already had a record of violence. He'd had one before he even got to the school. People were always waiting for him to make a wrong move.

The boys at the table were laughing. Jack just wanted to get away, Then a hand slapped against his face. His breath caught in his throat and he closed his eyes. Sound seemed to fade out as he waited for more. It was never just one. It might start with a single slap but it often ended with him unable to move on the floor.

A splash of something cold brought him back to the present. He rubbed at the orange liquid that was running down his face. He was pushed away and stumbled back until his back hit something. He stumbled forward after being shoved from behind.

"What's going on, boys?" A voice came from behind him.

Jack cringed. He knew who he had just run into.

"Heya, Spot." The bully said, "Just teaching this kid his place."

Jack turned around to see the captain of the football team, Spot Conlon. He involuntarily took a step back.

"I see," Spot watched Jack for a moment, staring at his face. Then he took a step forward and grabbed Jack by the collar of his shirt, bringing him down so that his ear was next to his mouth. "You wiped off your makeup. Pull up your hood, then go to the bathroom and fix it." Then he shoved him, but Jack could tell it wasn't nearly as hard as it should have been,

Feeling panicked, Jack pulled up his hood and dashed out of the room. He could hear some of the boys laughing. He didn't care. He had to get out.

~N~

Jack looked at himself in the mirror. The bruising wasn't extremely noticeable. He wasn't exactly sure how Spot had seen it so quickly and then noticed that he had been wearing makeup. What was even more confusing, was why he cared. Jack didn't think that he would tell. If he had planned on telling people, he wouldn't have told him to fix it. But, still, the fact that someone had noticed made him feel sick to his stomach.

The bell rang, signalling the beginning of fifth hour. It was government or history or some civil rights class, he couldn't remember. He didn't really care. He was tired. He just wanted to find a place somewhere and sleep.

He sighed, applying the foundation he had in his backpack. He tried to keep some everywhere in case something happened. Some in his room, some in his locker, and some in his backpack. He never knew when something like this would happen.

Finishing, he zipped his backpack up and headed to class.

~N~

He was late. He knew he was late. That didn't stop the embarrassment he felt when all eyes turned to him.

"Ah, Mr Kelly, you decided to join us."

He shrugged, "Thought I might as well stop in and see what all of the fuss was about." He grinned. People expected him to be cheeky, so long as he stayed on the "slightly lazy but still generally ignorable" side of the line instead of the "he's a problem and we need to involve his guardian" side of the line, he would be fine.

The teacher rolled her eyes, "I assigned a group project. Since everyone has already gathered into groups, I'll have to assign you one." She looked around the room briefly. "You can join that group," she motioned towards where a boy and girl were sitting.

Jack nodded and sat down across from them. They both jumped slightly at his sudden entrance. "I've been assigned to your group. Jack Kelly." He looked the two kids in front of him up and down. The girl was rich. There was no question about it. The boy didn't look quite as rich, but he was definitely well off. They both looked smart and he could already see the judgment in their eyes. They didn't want him there. That was fine. He didn't particularly want to be there.

The girl spoke first, "Katherine Plumber, this is David. Did the teacher tell you what the project was about?"

"Nope."

He saw her roll her eyes and glance at the boy who shrugged.

"We're supposed to analyze what it means to be free. We need to write a paper, have someone present it, and have some form of visual aid."

"Before you came over we were talking about it." The boy, David, spoke up for the first time. "I said I would present and Katherine was going to write it. Obviously we'll still have to plan everything together to make sure it fits right."

"What about the visual aid?"

They both looked at him surprised, "What about it?"

"Whose doing that?"

"Are you…" Katherine raised her eyebrows slightly, "volunteering?"

They didn't have to seem so shocked, "Yeah, I guess. I'm sure I could come up with something."

"Uh, okay then. You can do the visual aid."

Jack nodded in satisfaction. He didn't know why, but he felt the need to impress them. They were judging him. People he had never talked to before had an opinion of him and he didn't like it. Didn't like the way they looked at him.

He could paint something. He may not have known a lot about writing, or researching, or freedom for that matter, but he knew how to draw and paint.

They continued talking, not even noticing that Jack was no longer listening.

~N~

Jack crawled through the window. He was exhausted. He had talked to more people in one day of school than he had in the last year and a half. He set his backpack beside his bed, then walked over to the door. He listened. There was no sound coming from the rest of the apartment.

Holding his breath, he pulled the door open and tiptoed out. He heard snoring. Making it to the living room, he saw that Snyder was passed out on the couch, multiple beer cans scattered around him.

The kitchen was close by. Maybe….

He opened the refrigerator. Nothing but beer. He tried the cabinet. There wasn't a single edible thing in the kitchen. Leaning his head against the closed pantry door, he let out a sigh. He just needed to forget about food and try to get sleep while he still could. He would have to deal with even more people tomorrow.

**~TH~**

**There's part three!**  
**Next chapter we get to meet Race, so I'm excited for that.**  
**Let me know what you guys thought of this!**  
**Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!**  
**Until next time.**  
**Gosh bless,**  
**Jamie**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's the next chapter!**

**This one is from Race's POV. I used the name Tyler with SomedayonBroadway's permission.**

**TW: Mentions of child abuse**

**~TH~**

Tyler Higgins knew pretty much everyone in the theatre department, so on Friday, when a new kid was standing awkwardly in the doorway, hands in pockets, he felt the need to investigate. As he neared the kid, he saw that his eyes were darting around the room, almost nervously.

"Uh, can I help you?"

The kid in front of him jumped. It took him a minute to calm down, then he shrugged. "I dunno. I was told I needed an elective and the office sent me here,"

"Oh, uh, okay. Wait here." Tyler left the kid alone. He'd never seen this kid before. He looked to be older, but still. He couldn't be sure, but the kid definitely looked anxious. And it didn't look like the normal 'new class, new people' kind.

In one of the back rooms of the school theatre, he found Ms Larkin, the drama teacher "Mamma Medda," He said, causing her to turn around.

"What's wrong, baby,"

"Nothing's wrong," at least he hoped not, "but there's a new kid who said the office moved him to this class."

"Well, let's go see him!" she smiled.

The kid hadn't left his place right inside the door.

"Hello sweetie," Ms Medda came forward, laying a hand on his shoulder. The kid flinched slightly, but didn't pull away. She removed her hand. "I'm Ms Medda, are you interested in acting?"

The kid shrugged, but looked almost panicked at the idea. "I, uh, don't really like the idea of bein' in front of a lot of people like that. I'm just here 'cause the office said I had to."

At least he was honest.

"That's perfectly fine, is there anything you do like to do? We need all kinds of help around here."

He shrugged again, almost like he was afraid to give answers. "I like to, uh, draw, 'n stuff."

"You could help with our backdrops! Do you paint?"

He nodded hesitantly.

"Wonderful! What's your name, Hunny?"

"Jack, uh, Jack Kelly."

"Well Jack, welcome to the theatre! Race, will you show Jack where the props and settings are? He can get a look at what we're working on and try out some paints to see what he's comfortable with."

Tyler smiled, "Sure, come on Jack,"

The older boy tentatively followed. "I'm Tyler, but most people call be Race."

"Okay."

The single word was followed by a long stint of silence. Eventually, they reached a small back room. It had all kinds of pains and art supplies, as well as a large backdrop hung across two walls.

"This is the room where we work on the props and stuff. Someone was working on a backdrop of a sky out west, but they dropped out. You think you can finish it?"

Jack shrugged. "Probably." He paused a second, then used his head to point towards it, "Can I try?"

Race nodded, "Go ahead."

Jack pushed up his sleeves a little, then picked up a paintbrush. As he started to paint, Race noticed the dark bruising around his right wrist. He watched the older boy paint. He was good, no doubt about that, but his eyes kept finding the bruising on his arm.

He was at a distance, but it definitely looked like a handprint, the kind of bruise you get when someone grabs onto you and won't let go. It fit. Everything fit. Oversized sweatshirt, wrinkled jeans, Race thought he could see a slight shift from concealer to skin near his hairline. And he was so jumpy and so insecure, almost afraid of doing or saying something wrong.

_Just like I was._

Jack set the paintbrush down and looked at the large canvas. Race looked too. It was good. Even better than what had already been done.

"Wow, Jack. That's amazing." He said sincerely.

Jack shrugged, pulling his sleeves back down. Race took a calculated risk.

"What happened to your arm?"

Jack froze, his shoulders going up in a defensive manner, "What'dya mean?"

"Your wrist, it had a bruise on." Jack glared at him, Race held up his hand in a peace offering manner. "Sorry, just trying to make conversation."

"I-it's fine." The older boy finally answered, "I jus', I hit it off somethin'. Wasn't pay'n attention and smacked it right down, think it was a table." He let out a forced laugh, "I can be a klutz sometimes, always doin' stupid things that get me hurt. I seem to always be covered in some kind of bruise."

_I bet you do._

"So long as it doesn't stop you from painting. I don't know anyone else who can paint like that."

Jack looked like he was about to argue, but the door opened and his eyes widened in fear, jerking his head towards the noise and taking in a short, gasping breath. Medda walked in, and Race saw the look she gave Jack. She knew too. Or at least suspected. She would be one to notice.

"Hey, baby, just came to check on you two." She laid a hand or Race's shoulder and he smiled up at her. She moved forward, inspecting the backdrop, "Wow, Jack, this is incredible."

He looked extremely uncomfortable at the praise. "It was nothin'."

"Well, it's certainly something to me! I'd say it's a stroke of luck that you came when you did!"

"Hey momma, Jack should take some paint home so he can practice. Y'know, so he doesn't have to do it all here."

Race saw Jack's eyes widen slightly, and he mouthed, 'Momma?' Not the worst reaction he'd gotten. It was true they looked nothing alike.

"That's a wonderful idea, Race! Jack, feel free to take home anything you need. Any painting you do is considered practice, just like when I have the actors running lines." She smiled, and Jack seemed to try to return it.

Race decided to answer his unasked question, "Medda is my foster mom."

Jack's eyes darted between the two of them. He seemed to almost be searching for something. "Cool." He finally said completely void of emotion. His eyes stayed on Race for a moment. Race felt himself being scanned, he was going to let him. No reason to call him out on it. He'd probably scared him enough for one day.

The bell rang, causing Jack to jump.

"You boys should probably get to your next class."

Jack nodded and walked out far too quickly.

Race watched as he left. Medda laid a hand on his shoulder. "We'll keep an eye on him, okay? But getting involved without proof could just make things worse."

He nodded.

Medda squeezed his shoulder, offering a comforting smile. "Go on, get to your next class."

~N~

"Don't be an idiot." Race rolled his eyes. "That is quite possibly the worst idea I've ever heard."

"Coming from you?" Albert laughed, "Listen, all I'm saying is that if we put Limburger cheese in the air vents, they'd have to shut down the school."

"Yes, and then we'd both get expelled and that would just go over so well."

Race wasn't sure if Albert was really considering it, or if his brain just stopped working after the last bell. Either way, getting expelled was not on his current agenda. He was quite happy with where he was in life at the moment and had no interest in ruining it all because of some stupid prank.

Albert apparently wasn't listening, "Okay, so here's what I'm thinking-."

Race stopped listening, his eyes finding that kid from this morning, Jack, at his locker. He rubbed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the locker. Then he sighed, opening it and a look of surprise crossed his face. He looked around as if to make sure no one was watching, then he pulled out a granola bar. He eyed it carefully before shoving it in his pocket. Next came a grocery bag, he pushed it into his backpack, once again looking around.

Jack turned and left, never even noticing Race, who felt a pang of... Something. He wasn't even completely sure what it was. It wasn't really pitty. Maybe understanding? He had a good idea from where the bag came from, he would have to find out what they knew. And he would have to keep an eye on this Jack Kelly.

**~TH~**

**So that's the new chapter! It was fun to write Jack from someone else's perspective.**

**Be sure to let me know what you think!**

**The next chapter gets back to Jack's POV, but I will occasionally skip between characters.**

**If you have any thoughts, theories, or predictions, let me know!**

**Gosh bless,**  
**Jamie**


	5. Chapter 5

**I didn't want to write this chapter until I started writing it and decided to add something not planned halfway through.**

**Anyway, here ya go!**

**TW: Active abuse**

**~TH~**

Jack's eyes snapped open, he was breathing heavily, unwilling to move. He listened for a sound that might have awoken him but didn't hear anything. He guessed that was a good thing.

He let his eyes slide shut and a hand run over his face. It was Saturday. He didn't have to go to school. He also had a bag full of food shoved in his dresser.

The bag had come out of nowhere. He had opened his locker to find it. On the way home, he had eaten one of the bars and it was heavenly. He couldn't remember something ever tasting so good. It had melted chocolate on the bottom. He hadn't had chocolate in months. It was amazing.

And Snyder had been out last night. He had the apartment to himself. He had cleaned up best he could, knowing that the Spider expected it of him, but other than that, he was free to do whatever he wanted. He had thought about sleeping without the fear of him coming in, but had ended up painting. Ms Medda had told him to take some things home, so he had. He started the freedom project, ready to prove the stuck up smart kids wrong.

All in all, it had been a really good night. And since he still had food, it wouldn't be a miserable weekend.

"Kelly!"

_Okay, maybe I shouldn't count on that._

He wasted no time following the voice. It would just make Snyder angrier if he wasn't there quickly. He met Snyder who was holding a wrapper in his hand.

"What's this!" He shouted.

Jack flinched, his eyes darting between the wrapper and the man's face. It must have fallen out of his pocket.

"Answer me!"

"I-it's a wrapper, sir." This was going to end badly. He knew it was.

Snyder let out an angry laugh, "I'd say it's a wrapper! Where did it come from?"

"I don't know, sir." That wasn't a lie. He had no idea where the food had come from.

"You don't know? You don't know. Then I suppose it just appeared out of thin air because I've never seen this wrapper before in my life!" He stopped yelling and brought his voice low and condescending. "Now, did you eat this bar and leave the wrapper?"

Jack could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He should have double-checked. He should have made sure that the wrapper was thrown away or hidden. Why did he have to be so stupid?! "Yes, sir."

"And where did you get it?"

"I-I found it, sir."

"You found it? Really now? Are you sure you didn't steal it?"

No no no. He hadn't. He really hadn't. "No sir, I found it."

The first hit really shouldn't have been unexpected. "What have I told you about stealing, Kelly? One wrong move and I can have you thrown in Juvie. Don't think I won't do it!"

He knew that. He knew he wouldn't think twice about it. And then he wouldn't get money from the state and he would-

"You steal and you bring attention to yourself! You steal something like food and people start suspecting things, do you understand?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"I don't think you do! If you are telling the truth and you found it-" he paused a look of realization crossing his face. He rammed Jack into the wall, cuasing the boy to cry out. "Did someone give this to you? Are you talking to people?" He was pinned there, unable to move other than the frantic shaking of his head.

"I'm not, I'm not. I don't talk to people. I swear. I don't want to cause trouble. I was just hungry."

"So you admit you stole it?"

Jack continued to breathe heavily. He could deny it, say again that he had found it, but Snyder would just accuse him of lying. And whatever he got for stealing would be better than if he thought that he had talked to people about this. About the abuse. About the constant hunger that never seemed to really go away.

"Y-yes. I-I'm sorry. Please, sir, I promise I won't do it again. Just please, don't call the police." He knew he wouldn't. If he did, they would come and see the empty cabinets and the nearly empty bedroom and they'd ask questions about the bruises and scars. But it still scared him. The last time he'd had the cops called on him he'd only been standing up for his brother. The group leader's nephews, the Delancy brothers, had gone beyond simple name-calling and had gotten physical. Jack wouldn't allow it. He'd done significantly less damage than the two boys but it had been him to get carted away in handcuffs. He'd been given a choice then, Snyder or Juvie. He wished he'd chosen Juvie.

The Spider looked at him with a calculating look, "Fine. I won't call them this time, but you need to learn your lesson."

Then the blows came. One after another. Agony spreading throughout his body in sudden bursts. There was no rhyme or reason to the sharp pains that came with each blow. Jack had no way to protect himself. He covered his face, particularly his eyes, those were the hardest to hide. He mentally laughed amongst the abuse, _Getting soaked and my only priority is to keep Snyder's secret._

He wasn't sure how long it lasted, but eventually, he felt the blows stop. He remained curled on the floor, trying to force himself to breathe in between sobs that he had tried and failed to stop. Snyder pulled him up and dragged him to Jack's bedroom. He pulled him up so he could half-whisper, half shout into his ear.

"Listen here boy, you know what I'm capable of and what I will do. Don't EVER lie to me again or you won't be the only one to regret it."

Jack was thrown to the floor where he lay gasping as Snyder slammed the door shut.

~N~

He didn't want to move. Moving was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to lay on the floor forever. But he couldn't. If he didn't get up now he might never get up. He worked his way onto his knees, pushing up on all fours. Jack leaned his forehead down on the floor, trying to gather both the mental and physical strength to move.

Eventually, he was able to push himself up on unsteady feet. He stumbled to his bed where he sat on the edge, just breathing. Just breathing and trying not to cry. He was sick of this. Sick of getting beat for the smallest step out of line. Snyder just continually got worse. The beatings hadn't been this frequent since his initial arrival.

Jack wrapped an arm around his ribs, willing himself to stand. It took more effort than he liked, but he made it to his dresser. He opened the top drawer. The plastic bag sat there, still holding several bars. They had caused a lot of trouble for him, but it was still food. It still took away the unbearable gnawing that accompanied him on weekends.

He grabbed one out of the bag. So long as he hid the wrappers, there was no reason to let them go to waste.

**~TH~**

**Okay, so not to be needy but PLEASE COMMENT!**

**I really want/need to know if you guys love this story as much as I do because I haven't liked a story this much since I first started writing DKOT (and I actually have an outline for this one and am not just making it up as I go).**

**So PLEASE COMMENT.**

**The longer the better.**

**Anyway...**

**Back to school with the next chapter.**

**There will be some ups and down coming up.**

**That is for certain.**

**Hope to have the new chapter up fairly soon because I'm super excited to write it.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	6. Chapter 6

**I am so sorry that this has taken so long...**  
**I mean... if it makes you feel any better I have most of chapter 8 written and all of 21... no? Well... I tried...**

**Not only that, but I've totally had this written for about five hours but keep getting preoccupied with the world ending. Anyway...**

**Please enjoy :)**

~TH~

Jack pushed through the overcrowded Monday morning hallways. He tried not to hiss every time someone bumped into him. His ribs were killing him. He had his arm protectively wrapped around his middle. He was less hungry than usual, given that he had actually eaten over the weekend, but he was still looking forward to lunch.

His morning classes had passed without incident. He'd fallen asleep in English, but they were just going over some book he had no intent of actually reading. He hadn't been called out and he had woken up before the bell, so he called it a win.

Snyder had left him alone for the most part. He'd found some time to yell at him Sunday afternoon, but it had remained verbal. Not that Snyder was telling him anything he didn't already know. He just liked to remind him how worthless he was. Whatever the reason, it kept him from getting a lot of sleep last night. Not to mention it was hard to find a comfortable position with how sore his ribs were. He knew they weren't broken. Bruised maybe?

Jack grabbed his lunch tray and made his way to the far table. He pulled his hood up and hoped nobody would bother him. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with bullies. Or anyone else for that matter. Race had kept trying to pull him into a conversation at Drama, he just wasn't into it. He was cold and tired and just wanted to be left alone.

Jack felt more than saw someone sit down across from him. He glances up, not turning away from his food. He did a double take. Why was Spot Conlon sitting with him?

His mind shot back to the previous week when he had told him that his bruises were showing through the makeup. He had tried not to think about it too much. It could mean too many things. Still, sitting across from the football captain made him feel very uncomfortable. He fidgeted slightly in his seat.

Spot spoke first, "Kelly right?"

"Uh, yeah," He said, peeking up from his food.

He was watching Jack carefully, his eyes moving across his face and to where he was still holding his ribs."You okay?"

"Yeah," _He doesn't know anything. He's just being nice. Why, I don't know. Just don't think about it. Eat your food._

"My boys won't mess with you anymore"

"Okay." Maybe if he kept answering with one word sentences he'd go away. Not that it wasn't a good thing. He was glad that Spot's boys would leave him alone. A single plus in his world of minuses.

Spot sighed and glanced away, possible to ensure no one else was listening, before returning his eyes back to Jack's face. "Listen, I'm not going to pry into your personal life. You don't know me and it's none of my business. I get it. But I know things can get rough sometimes and...Listen, all I'm saying is that if something happens and you need a place to hide out, call me." He slipped a small piece of paper across the table. Jack stared at it for a moment, trying to process what was just said.

He heard Spot sigh again and then felt the table shift back into place. He looked up to see Spot walking away. Jack tentatively grabbed the sheet of paper, looked at the sloppily written numbers, and shoved it in his pocket.

~N~

Jack sat across from David and Katherine as they worked on their English project. His brain was still trying to process everything that had happened at lunch. Why did _Spot Conlon_ care? He probably didn't even know his name before last week, why was he suddenly so invested in his life? Jack doubted he would tell anyone about anything. If he planned on it, why talk to Jack first? That would just insure that he knew who ruined his life. No, this was something else. He actually cared. Now if he could just figure out why.

"What do you think, Jack?"

His head jerked up to meet Katherine's eyes. She had a smug look on her face and he hated playing into her trap. "Huh? What?"

She rolled her eyes, "I asked what you thought about outlining the different types of American freedom."

"Oh, uh, what do you have so far?"

David passed a paper and Jack read it outloud."Freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of thought, freedom of action, freedom of choice, freedom of consumption…" he looked up, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know," David shrugged, "You can buy what you want and eat what you want."

He honestly didn't mean to snort.

"You find something funny?" Katherine crossed her arms.

He shook his head, still laughing slightly, "No, no, just, you know, thinking that, y'know not everyone has those rights. Maybe we should talk about that."

"Well, yeah, but this paper is about America."

"Oh, right, sorry. I forgot that those things only happen in other countries." He couldn't wipe the satirical smile off his face._ Are these people for real?_

"Then," Katherine glared at him, "If we're all in agreement, I think we should move on to people who help keep those freedoms. There's the government, believe it or not, they're supposed to be protecting those freedoms, then we have the voters who vote to make things happen, and of course, we have police officers." She nodded at Davey who smiled a little.

"You sure police officers should be on that list?" As far as Jack was concerned, cops did the opposite of protecting freedom. They were there to listen to whoever had the most money and tear apart families.

"You got something against police officers?" David had an angry fire in his eye that Jack hadn't seen before in the seemingly calm boy.

"I just don't see how they make the cut." He shrugged.

"Listen, I know some cops are dirty, but not all are! Just because you've had bad experiences doesn't mean that they're all bad!" The speech sounded well rehearsed even if it was full of fire.

Jack raised his hands in surrender, "Sorry, sorry, forget I mentioned it."

Katherine patted David on the shoulder, "Davey's dad is a police officer. He's a really good guy. I won't deny police brutality, but Officer Jacobs is one of the good ones."

"Good ta know."

David took a deep breath then seemed to return to his normal calm self. "Anyway, let's start making a more concrete outline."

~N~

Jack looked at the canvas. So far all he had was various light streaks of blue covering the dried white canvas. Based on his conversation today, he assumed that they would want something patriotic. The blue came out lighter than he intended, closer to sky, or baby blue, than the dark, navy blue typically associated with America.

He dipped his brush again, he kind of liked it, maybe when he added red it would be better. Did it matter though? So long as he liked, what did it matter? He didn't know what people found so interesting about his art anyway. He really wasn't that good.

Footsteps echoed down the short hallway. Jack's eyes widened. He shoved the paint pallet into a grocery bag, the paintbrush in a second one. The canvas slid behind his dress and the bagged supplies went into the drawer. He closed it just as the door swung open.

"Kelly," Snyder didn't seem too incredibly angry, which was probably a good thing. "I have some people coming over, I need you out of the house tonight."

He started to panic, "But Mr Snyder, it's thirty degrees outside and-"

A slap across the face cut him off. "I said- !" He stopped, a smile creeping across his face. Jack felt his heart begin to pound. "You know what Kelly, if you really want to stay here tonight, you can join us. I'm sure no one would object assuming you remembered to do as you're told and accept your place for the evening."

Jack felt his hands begin to shake. He wouldn't make it through the night. They might actually kill him. Jack knew the kind of friends the Spider was bringing over. He'd been here for one of their parties before. Snyder had forced him to stay. It was last summer, when he knew he wouldn't have to go out for a while afterwards. It was the highest level of abuse he had ever felt and he honestly didn't know if he would survive it again. He had practically been their slave. Cleaning up after them, getting them drinks. He remembered waking up in his bed the next day, the last thing he remembered was having a chair thrown at him for not being fast enough. He could barely move and he hadn't been allowed (or even able) to leave the house for close to a month.

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "I-I'll leave, sir."

Snyder laughed, finding his fear amusing and almost… refreshing. "Good. You can come back to get your school things in the morning." He waved towards his own face. "And be sure to cover that up."

Jack's hand subconsciously went to where he had been slapped.

"Yes, Mr Snyder."

The man let out another laugh and walked out of the room slamming the door behind him.

Jack grabbed the thin blanket off of the bed. He put on his extra long sleeve shirt, hoping that two sweaters, even if they were both thin, would offer at least some warmth. Next came his sweatshirt, the one thing that might actually help him tonight. He grabbed his backpack and climbed onto the roof.

There was a small hole that was made from the building's heaters. The circulation system caused it to be really cold and then really hot for hours at a time in the small space. It was better than nothing. He climbed over the machine and sat in the square hole it provided. It was currently emitting heat, which was good for the moment. Despite that, he wrapped the blanket around him and waited. The sun wasn't quite down yet, but he knew if he didn't hide out here now, he would be less likely to remain hidden.

As the sun set, he felt in his pocket to find his phone. With his phone, came a small slip of paper.

_"Listen, all I'm saying is that if something happens and you need a place to hide out, call me."_

He rubbed the paper between his fingers. He could…

His hands were already nearly numb, but he managed to get the numbers into his phone. His thumb hovered over the call button. He closed his eyes, opened them, and sighed. He clicked add to contacts, typing simply 'Spot' as the name, and put his phone away.

The blanket was brought closer around his shoulders as he let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.

~TH~

**I do hope you enjoyed this!**

**Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews on the last chapter. They make me so incredibly happy.**

**It looks like my school will be shutting down starting Monday, so I'll hopefully have more time to write in upcoming days.**

**Anyone else getting "Black Friday" or more specifically "What if Tomorrow Comes" vibes? Because this entire ordeal has me feeling it.**

**Anyway... sorry... I think I'm low-key (or maybe high-key) stressed about this whole quarantine/lock-down/everything is cancelled thing. Sorry, I'm rambling and will now leave you in peace.**

**Leave a comment to make my day!**

**Gosh bless (and is in control despite everything),**

**Jamie**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here is the next chapter! A new POV for this one. It's pretty short, but my net chapter is fairly long, so hopefully, that will make up for it.**

**Please enjoy!**

~TH~

Katherine looked down at her phone, Her thumbs typing away through her touch screen gloves. Yes she was going to Darcy's party this weekend. No she didn't really want to. Yes her dad was making her.

She was about to push send on a message when she collided with someone. They both fell to the ground, her phone still tightly held in her hand.

"Oh, shoot, sorry." A voice said, the other person scrambling to their feet.

A hand was reached out from above her and she accepted it. Even through the glove she could feel the icy coldness of the hand.

"Sorry, I- Oh, Katherine, hey." Jack. It was Jack Kelly, from History. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Don't worry about it, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." She watched him. He was shaking. He was wearing that same grey sweatshirt that he wore everyday. She understood favourites, but she couldn't remember ever seeing this guy NOT wearing it.

He laughed nervously, "Same." He was hugging his arms close to himself.

"How long have you been inside? You look like you're freezing."

He looked startled, "Oh, uh, not long. The, the heater went out last night at my apartment. Not a big deal, just cold for the moment." He let out a short laugh.

"Are you going to be able to get that fixed? I mean it's getting kind of cold out." She realized that this was the first time she had actually talked to Jack about something other than the project.

"Yeah, yeah, my guardian said it should be running by the time I get back."

Guardian. Interesting.

"Well, here." She pushed her phone into her pocket and pulled off her gloves. "Maybe this will warm you up faster."

He shook his head, "No, Katherine, I couldn't. There yours-"

"I've got hundreds of them at home."

"Your parents-"

"Won't even notice that they're gone. Trust me, Jack. Take them." She held them out again and this time he took them.

Jack slipped them onto his shaking hands. He laughed as they stretched. "I think my hands are a bit bigger than yours."

"It's fine. The material is made like that. And you can keep them so don't worry about stretching them."

He smiled at her. It was quite possibly the first time she had ever seen him smile in an unironic manner. It was kind of cute.

"Well, uh, thanks." He said, "See, ya later." He nodded to her and walked away.

~N~

She didn't see Jack after the initial run in until history. Katherine assumed that he had normal classes, while she took almost all AP. This was the only history she could fit in her schedule, so that's the only reason she had met Jack in the first place. She was still trying to find out if it was a good thing. He seemed sweet enough this morning, but her experience with him in class was very sarcastic and flippant.

Jack was in the hallway outside of the library, looking down at what she assumed was his phone. David turned to her, "Do you think he has actually done anything yet?"

She shrugged, "Probably not. I guess we'll see tonight."

Jack came in and sat across from them, dropping his backpack beside him. He smiled, but he looked extremely nervous. "So, uh, where are we at? Do we have an outline yet?"

She raised her eyebrow. He seemed to suddenly be taking an interest. His leg was bouncing up and down rapidly.

"We were still working on the out-"

A loud vibrating sound came from across the table and Jack flinched, his hand moving to his pocket.

"Sorry, just ignore that."

She nodded, "Okay, so we have most of the loose outline written but-"

Jack must have received three texts in a row. He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. Then he smiled a very weak, unrealistic smile.

"I'm sorry, but I should probably answer that."

He pushed away from the table and went out into the hallway and towards the bathrooms.

"What was that all about?"

David shrugged, "I honestly couldn't tell you. He's an interesting one, that's for sure." He paused, shaking his pencil. "Do you have any lead? I just ran out."

"No, uh, I got a pen." She rummaged through her pencil pouch to see if she had anything else. "Jack might have some." She reached for his bag.

"I doubt he would appreciate you going through this thing."

"Lemme just check the side pocket. " she unzipped it and was met with a small bottle. She pulled it out. "Concealer?"

"What?"

"Oh, in Jack's bag, he's got some sort of liquid concealer. Why would he have that?"

"I don't know, maybe he likes it, put it back."

"If he liked makeup wouldn't he be wearing more than just this? It's not even noticeable."

"Maybe he's embarrassed?"

"Could be..."

"Maybe he just has bad acne. It's none of our business. Wait, he's coming back, Katherine!"

She slipped it back in and zipped it up. He sat down with a nervous smile. His hands were shaking and he looked unnerved.

"Sorry about that."

"No problem," Katherine smiled, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it was just my foster dad."

Right. She remembered he had said guardian this morning.

"Oh, is your heater fixed?"

"Heater?"

"You know, this morning you said your heater broke."

"Oh, right! Sorry, yeah. He said he was able to fix it this morning. So that's good."

"Yeah." She said back. He fidgeted under her scrutinizing look.

Davey cleared his throat, "Uh, so, I was thinking that tonight when we meet, Kath, you can bring your computer and-"

"Tonight?" He looked slightly panicked.

"Yeah," Katherine answered, "You know, we talked about it last week. Six tonight at Jacobi's."

"Oh, right, I just, uh, forgot that that was tonight." He shrugged.

"Is it a problem?" Her mind shot back to her previous assumption that he hadn't even started on a visual aid.

He shook his head, but definitely looked nervous, almost sick. "No, I'll, uh, I'll be there."

"Good," there was an awkward pause in the conversation as Jack had a far away look in his eyes.

David again cleared the silence, "So, I just realized that neither of us have your number. It'd probably be a good idea to exchange them."

"Oh, uh, sure." Jack pulled out his small phone and laid it on the table.

Katherine didn't hesitate to pick it up and watched as Jack seemed to flinch, She probably didn't even want to know what he had on it.

"No password?" She laughed.

"Yeah, uh, don't need one, Nothing important on there. And, uh, my foster dad has an open phone policy, disabled the passcode. Supposed to keep me accountable or somethin'." He mumbled the ending but didn't respond. She opened up messages, Jack looked nervous, like he was about to snatch the phone away. The only conversation up was the title Spider. The text that was showing just said, "Yes, sir."

She was about to click on the message when David cleared his throat. Jack was visibly shaking, though he was trying to hide it. Checking her curiosity, she opened a new conversation, typed in her number and sent herself a text.

"I'll just send it to Davey and he can text you."

"Sounds good." He practically snatched the phone back.

Dave smiled hesitantly and clasped his hands together. "So, should we start with freedom of speech?"

~TH~

**Katherine, bless her, is what we call book smart. She's simultaneously observant and oblivious.**

**Next chapter is already written and edited, so I should have it up tomorrow, depending on the response of this chapter.**

**I hope you enjoyed!**

**Stay safe my friends!**

**Gosh bless,**  
**Jamie**


	8. Chapter 8

**And here we are again. Two days in a row? At least this quarantine has something positive...**

**Longer chapter and back to Jack.**

**I don't normally do this, but I had so many lovely comments, I'm going to answer them this chapter!**

**_Keys (guest): Thank you! I hope this chapter meets your expectations!_**

**_Guest (March 17): Here you go! I know, the quarantine is hard, but we'll get through it together, yeah?_**

**_Erster394 (guest): Thank you! Love you too! *hugs*_**

**_Countess Eliza: Snyder is 100% a jerk and Katherine and Jack are adorable. Not even necessarily as a couple, just in general!_**

**_Guests (March 18): Here's your chapter! Hope you like it!_**

**Enjoy!**

**TW: Abuse**

~TH~

Jack smiled, looking at his painting. He was proud of it, and felt a sense of accomplishment that he hadn't really felt in a while. He had finished the red, white, and blue background and he was working on an eagle breaking out of its cage. Patriotic, right? It wasn't quite finished, but it was time to go. They'd hopefully be pleased with the progress he'd made.

Jack took a picture of it, proof that he had done it. Maybe he should take it with him? No, he didn't want to mess it up.

Now was the tricky part. Snyder had texted him earlier and told him that he had to stay home tonight. Apparently one of the neighbours had seen him crawling out the window and decided it was their duty to tell Snyder. Where were they when Jack screamed and begged for Snyder to stop? Apparently not paying attention.

It didn't matter, he was sneaking out. He'd promised them he'd meet them. He wasn't going to let them down.

The door swung open and Jack spun around. He pulled the headphones off of his head, watching Snyder, one foot out the window.

"I've been calling for you, boy." He sneered, advancing. He stopped when he saw Jack at the window, "I thought I told you to stay inside tonight!"

Jack didn't answer, holding his breath. He could make a run for it. That was his best option. Snyder was already angry, delaying the punishment wouldn't hurt anything.

"What's this?" Snyder moved towards the painting.

Jack panicked. He'd forgotten to put it away. He extracted himself from the window and took a couple of steps forward. "I-it's for school."

"You're painting for school? What are you, kindergarteners?"

"No, sir, it's for a school project. I'm doing the illustration part."

The man raised his eyebrows, a dark glint in his eyes. "Really now. And who's doing the other parts?"

Jack froze. Mistake. He had made a mistake.

"You've been talking to people!"

"Only for school. I promise, Mr Snyder, if I refused to do the project they'd suspect something. We don't even talk that much. Just at school." He had backed up into the corner, trying to put distance between himself and his angry guardian. Snyder growled, grabbing the painting and snapping it over his knee.

"Is that where you were going? Off to see your little friends!"

_Yes._

"No! No, I wasn't-"

Jack was grabbed by the arm, his headphones were yanked from off his neck, the small phone still dangling at the end. The device was thrown on the bed and Jack was being pulled out of the room. He was being pulled towards-

_No. Please no. Please. Give me a beating, I can take that, but please no._

"Mr Snyder, Mr Snyder please, I promise, I won't tell 'em nothin'. Just please, d-don't." He couldn't breathe.

Snyder turned around and sent a punch flying, landing directly on Jack's eye. The boy gasped, using his free hand to touch it before being pulled along.

A door was opened leading to a small closet. "We'll make sure of that." His back slammed against the wall as he watched Snyder. "If you won't obey me and stay inside, I'll have to make sure you don't leave!"

The door slammed, sending Jack into blackness. He couldn't breathe. It was so small. He knew from experience that there wasn't even enough room to sit down right. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to imagine himself anywhere but there.

There was a small amount of light coming from under the door, but he knew once the sun went down, it would be completely dark. He tried to control his breathing. He stood there, silently trying to reign in his fears. Eventually, his legs couldn't support him anymore. Between standing in one position and the terror he was feeling he felt so tired.

He turned sideways, parallel to the door, and sat down. His knees were pulled up to his chest, the only way he could fit inside the small closet. He leaned his forehead against his knees. He hated this. He hated the small blackness. He hated not being able to move.

He knew better than to make any noises. That would just get him in more trouble. He hadn't been put in the closet in a long time. Snyder seemed to enjoy taking out his frustrations on him. But the closet had to be one of the worst punishments.

_I was supposed to meet them._

The thought hit him suddenly, knocking the air from his lungs. He was missing his meeting right now. And his project was destroyed.

_Nonononononono_

He banged his head against his knees, letting the dull pain keep him from spiralling. It felt like everything kept falling apart. Life was getting more and more stressful, life was getting harder to deal with. He was sick of it. Sick of it all.

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. BREATHE._

He had no clue how long he was going to be trapped in the tiny box, but any time was too long.

~N~

The door swung open, light streaming in. Jack gasped and slammed his eyes shut. Despite the hours of being left in the dark, a throbbing had begun in his head a few hours before. He hadn't slept at all. It was too cramped. Too suffocating. He had spent most of the night trying to keep breathing and not freak out or make any noise that would draw attention to himself.

Jack was grabbed by the arm and pulled up. His legs gave out under him as he tried to stand. He still couldn't bear to open his eyes. He felt himself being pulled, almost dragged away and just allowed it to happen. Snyder threw him forward and Jack was barely able to catch himself. He blinked his eyes open and squinted up at the man.

"You learn your lesson, boy?"

Jack wasn't even sure what lesson he was supposed to be learning. "Yes, sir." He choked out anyway.

"Good. Get to school."

Jack flinched when the door shut. He took a moment to gather himself. His head was killing him and his eye was throbbing. Eventually, he made it to his bed where he grabbed his phone. It had several missed texts from David and Katherine. They were going to hate him. He glanced at the time and panicked. School starter in fifteen minutes!

He grabbed the concealer and applied it the best that he could. It still didn't cover his eye, but it would help some.

Knowing he was going to be late, he grabbed his bag and went out the window.

~N~

Jack leaned his head down on the table. His headache hadn't gone away. He had tried to paint, but everything was so bright. The lights were on and the door was open. Despite the pain, he couldn't bear to be trapped in darkness. Again.

"Jack?"

Jack pushed himself to his feet in a panic, knocking the chair over in the process. His head started spinning and he had to grab the table to keep from falling. He took a couple of deep breaths before opening his eyes

"Oh, uh, hey Race," he said as if the boy hadn't just seen him nearly collapse.

"What was that?!"

"Nothin', I've jus' got a headache. It's nothin'."

Race laughed, "Yeah, sure."

"Sorry, I should be workin'." Would he be mad? Would he tell Medda? Would she report him? He had been sleeping in class more. He never really meant to, but ever since he lost his study hall it had been harder to stay awake. No one had reported him yet that he knew of. He hoped it would stay that way.

Race shook his head, "No, no, just, just sit back down before you fall over."

Jack hesitantly righted the chair and sat back down.

"What happened to your eye?"

Why was this kid so nosy?

"I walked into a door. Wasn't pain' attention."

"Sure."

He sighed, "Race,"

"No, it's fine. I'm not going to make you tell me anything. Just…" He trailed off. "Just be careful."

Jack wasn't sure what that meant. He didn't seem to buy the story… but maybe?

"You're coming over tomorrow night."

His head snapped up, "I'm what?"

"Coming over. We're getting pizza and going to my brother's house. He said I could bring a friend, I chose you."

Jack didn't know what to think. He was being offered free food. That was always a plus. But if Snyder found out… he probably wouldn't even notice, right? And why would Race choose him? The kid had to have other friends, why him? He wasn't anything special.

"I don't… we'll see."

He wasn't sure, but he thought Race's face lit up a little.

"Okay, I'll leave you to sleep. Do you want me to turn the light off?"

"No!"

Race raised his eyebrows, but didn't respond. "Okay, just… don't… just try not to walk into any more doors."

Jack took a deep breath and laid his head back down on the table.

~N~

"Oh, look, he decided to show up."

Jack tensed as he entered the library. He had thought that, maybe, they had been warming up to him. Katherine had been nice the day before in the hallway, but he knew he ruined it with not showing up last night. "I know, sorry about that. Something… came up."

David remained silent, but Katherine continued to go off. "I see you've gotten into another fight. The least you could do is cover it up."

His hand flew to his eyes, "W-what do you mean?"

"I'm just saying, if you're going to wear makeup, might as well put it to good use."

"Katherine!"

Jack felt himself begin to panic. "Why, why would you say that?"

Katherine's expression didn't change, but David looked apologetic. "I needed lead, and you left your bag here-"

"So you went through my stuff!" He knew he probably sounded angry, but he was scared. They had found out. That was one of his biggest secrets. It sounded like she had pieced together why. Davey's dad was a cop…. What if he told?

He needed out, out now. Katherine might have been talking, but he couldn't hear. He couldn't breathe. His bag was in his hand and he ran. David was calling after him. He couldn't do this. Not today. Not when everything was going on.

The bathroom. The bathroom was safe.

The door swung shut behind him. He couldn't breathe. He ducked into a stall, shutting the door and sliding the metal bar over.

He couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening. He slid to the floor, his back against the wall.

"Nononononono," He pulled his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn't happen. She had found out. She had to have found out.

The bathroom door opened and when Jack opened his eyes, he saw a pair of red converse outside the stall.

"Jack?"

It was Race. Why was he here?

"Hey, Jack, buddy, open the door. Please?"

He couldn't move even if he wanted to. He was frozen. Frozen in place while the world spiralled out of control.

Jack watched numbly while the metal bar was moved from the wrong side. The door swung open and Race was standing in front of him.

"Jack, can you hear me?"

He drew in a shuddering breath, but didn't answer.

"Okay, Kelly, let's-"

Nononono, not that name. Only Snyder called him that. His eyes snapped shut and his breathing became harder to control.

"Okay, okay, Jack, Jack, Jacky."

He stopped, that name. He liked that name. Crutchie called him that. He felt himself unfold slightly from his curled position.

"Good, good. Everything is going to be fine, okay, Jacky? No one is going to hurt ya. Just breathe."

And he did. He breathed. He breathed with Race. It was easier when he could hear the slow deep breaths, when he could see someone else's chest rise and fall in an almost mesmerizing rhythm. He calmed down a lot faster than he normally did. And he _liked_ it. He liked someone being there with him. It was the one thing his frazzled mind really picked up on.

"There you go, Jack. See? Everything is fine."

Jack nodded, he didn't know why he nodded, but he did. He was okay for the moment. He was not in the closet. He was not trapped with Snyder. He was not being yelled at or hit or anything. He was okay.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

No. He wanted to get out. He needed to get out.

He stood up and pushed past Race, who protested, but was ignored. He moved to leave, but was blocked by Spot who was standing in front of the door.

Spot looked at him for a minute. Jack just stood there unsure of what to do. Then the older boy sighed and moved out of the way.

Jack walked out the bathroom door and right out the nearest exit.

**~TH~**

**Have I mentioned that I'm claustrophobic? There was actually a time in my life where I could not be in a room if the door was shut. When I got over that there was another couple of years where the door could not be locked. Now so long as I'm not trapped and have a means of escape I'm fine.**

**Anyway.**

**Sorry about that, mini ramble.**

**Poor Jack. He can not catch a break. At least Race is there to help. Not that Jack wants help.**

**I don't think Jack knows what he wants lol.**

**And why is Jack so afraid of people finding out? Shouldn't he want to get Snyder caught? Why is he protecting him?**

**Be sure to leave any thoughts or theories on anything that's happened so far!**

**Next chapter will be shorter and from a new POV.**

**Until then!**

**God bless and stay safe!**

**Jamie**


	9. Chapter 9

**THREE DAYS IN A ROW**  
**It's a quarantine miracle.**  
**Also I'm avoiding my daily math assignment.**

**Anyway... enjoy the POV of the one and only, Spot Conlon.**

**~TH~**

"Where do you think he's going?"

Sean leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Probably home."

"You really think he would just walk out of school like that?"

He shrugged, "Wouldn't you?"

Race started pacing in front of the stalls, Spot leaned his head back.

"I shouldn't have asked him to talk about it. I freaked him out."

"Race, you did fine. Anything you said would have freaked him out. You calmed him down, that's all you could have done." Tyler had done a much better job than Sean ever would have been able to. Spot always tried to help, but wasn't too good at calming people down. He guessed he wasn't the comforting type.

"Still. He was really upset. I shouldn't have let him leave."

"Technically, I let him leave. Keeping him trapped just would have freaked him out even more." There was silence for a moment, the only sound being that of Race's anxious pacing.

"So what freaked him out to begin with?" Spot had been sitting in English class when he'd gotten a text from Race to meet him in the bathroom and to not let anyone else in. He had been worried. He knew that Tyler had bad panic attacks and sometimes just needed him there, but he still surprise was when it wasn't Race panicking. It only took him a moment to realize who exactly he was talking to.

"I dunno exactly what happened." Race shrugged, "I was in the library and he yelled something about people going through his stuff then took off. Followed him in here where he was having a pretty bad panic attack."

_So he was freaked out about someone going through his stuff. Understandable. Especially if my guess is right._

"Who was he talking to."

"Uh, two kids, I don't know- oh, I remember, it's that girl, Plumber, the one that wins all the writing awards. And her friend, the boy whose dad is a cop."

"Jacobs?" Spot had heard of him. Not much about him, but of him.

"Yeah. They've been meeting almost everyday. I think they're doing some project together."

Spot nodded. It made since. He couldn't think of another reason Jack would be hanging around them. He'd watched the kid after their meeting in the cafeteria. Jack never talked to anyone. Just kept his head down and sweatshirt on. Only a sweatshirt. In the middle of a New York winter. Spot had helped as much as he could, giving him his number and leaving a bag of food in his locker. He hoped it had helped.

"D'you invite him?"

Race nodded, "Yeah, but I don't know if he'll show. Medda and I will be there though."

"Good." Maybe he'd come. Maybe he'd finally accept some help.

Tyler stopped pacing and looked at him warily, "Listen, I wouldn't get your hopes up. I've been going to class with him for a week now and he still barely talks to me. Ask him anything personal and he clams up. Talk about his bruises he makes up some dumb exucse about being clumsy or something. He seems to like Medda, but he's jumpy even around her."

"Yeah," he had noticed that too. "Did you look through his file?"

Race scoffed, "Yeah. Not much there. Says he moved here at the beginning of last year. Used to be homeschooled. And that he had a record of violence." He rolled his eyes, "Can you believe that? I have no doubt that the kid could fight, but I've never heard about any fights involving him. He doesn't let people get close enough to touch him, much less fight with him. And his bruises don't look like the type you get from a fight."

Spot nodded "One of my boys went after him last week. He never fought back, stayed on the defensive the entire time." There was a pause and when Race didn't volunteer any more information, Spot sighed, "Race, you know what I'm asking."

"Yes, he's a foster kid. Been in the same home for almost two years. He came from the group home across town. Part of the free lunch program."

_Probably the only food he gets._

"Shocking." Was all Spot said before he walked out of the bathroom.

~N~

It wasn't hard to find the two kids sitting at the library table. The girl, Plumber, looked like she was fuming, angrily scribbling on a sheet of paper. Jacobs looked nervous, maybe even sick. He kept glancing over at the girl with an uncertain look in his eyes. Spot walked over to the table and sat across from them.

The girl glanced up with a sceptical look. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you know a Jack Kelly?"

Plumber rolled her eyes, "I really don't see how that's any of your business."

"Well, he just ran out of here upset which makes it my business."

"Oh," she smiled in a condescending way, "You're friends. Listen, if he has a problem with something, he can come talk to me himself."

"Listen, he doesn't know I'm here talking to you right now. I just want to know what has him so upset."

"He missed a meeting." The Jacobs boy fidget nervously, "He was supposed to meet us last night but he never showed. Didn't answer our texts. Nothing."

"Probably didn't even do the project," Plumber muttered under her breath.

Spot crossed his arms, "And that's it. He didn't show up and when he saw you he got so upset about it that he ran out."

"Sounds about right to me."

"Katherine, would you stop that!" Jacobs hissed, "I get it, you're mad at him, but just leave it, okay?"

Spot raised his eyebrows, "Care to elaborate?"

"Listen, it wasn't…" he sighed, "Kath was upset, she said some things she shouldn't have."

"Such as?"

"Listen, if the guy is going to wear makeup, he shouldn't act so freaked out that I mentioned it."

"And how did you know he wore it?" Spot was getting angry now.

She had the decency to at least look embarrassed,"Fine, I shouldn't have gone through his stuff, but still-"

"So, you went through his stuff, called him out on something he obviously wanted kept a secret, and then you have the audacity to make it seem like, _he's_ the one in the wrong?

"Listen, if he wasn't going to come, he should have just said something." The fire seemed to have gone out and she looked at least slightly sorry. "And look at his face, he obviously got into some sort of fight. I just wanted him to own up to it-"

That was too far in Spot's opinion. "Listen. The kid has it rough, okay? I've lived the kind of life that he has and it ain't fun. If he misses something unexpectedly, maybe he didn't have a choice. Maybe he couldn't get to his phone. Maybe it was dead. Maybe he didn't have it. Maybe there was a family emergency and he just couldn't make it. Maybe he walked into a door. Maybe someone jumped him. I don't know if you know this, but he doesn't live in the safest neighborhood. Don't just assume the worst about people."

She stayed silent, as if trying to think of something to say.

"You win lots of awards, right?"

"I've won some, what's your point?"

"What if someone walked up to your face and said, '"Course you won, you're dad's the director of schools'. How would that make you feel?"

"I don't-"

"Just think about it, yeah?" He stood from the table and walked off. He could feel their eyes on him as they walked out. Good. Maybe they would actually learn their lesson now before he had to go beyond simply talking.

**~TH~**

**Back to Jack next chapter.**  
**But Spot needed one of his own.**  
**Not to mention Katherine desperately needed a talking to.**  
**I'm sorry if she seems a little ooc and angry. I just can totally see her getting this way when she's really mad about something.**

**So, what'd you think? Did you like Spot?**  
**I for one love him.**  
**Anyway...**

**Let me know what you thought of it all!**  
**Spot and Race had a nice little convo there...**  
**What could it all mean?**

**Be sure to leave a comment!**

**Love you all!**

**God bless and stay safe,**  
**Jamie**


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, So it's technically past midnight, but if I haven't slept it counts as the same day, right? So it's day four? We're going with day four.**

_Reviews:_

_Guest: I'm kind of glad too. She kind of deserved it. And... yeah. Hey, it wasn't due until 1pm and I turned it in at 12:30pm. So, no harm done, right?  
_

_Fangirl1347(guest): I'm glad to be of assistance! And I LOVE Somedayonbroadway, so being compared to her is a great honour! And account or no, glad to have you here!_

**A longer chapter for you. Hope you like it!**

**~TH~**

Jack kept his head down in the hallway. He had skipped half of his classes the day before and desperately hoped no one would call him out on it. It had been a stupid thing to do. Snyder had been at work, so that wasn't a problem, but anything could have happened. He was just lucky Snyder didn't come home and catch him. Panic attack or no, that would have ended badly.

"Hey, Jack!"

Jack stopped at the familiar voice. He should keep walking. He really didn't want to talk to anyone, much less him.

"Heya Dave."

The other boy came and stood beside him. "Listen, about yesterday-"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I get it, I should have been there. It was stupid of me not to and-"

"No, no, Jack," He interrupted, "I wasn't- look, I just wanted to say that I was sorry. We shouldn't have gone through your stuff. And we didn't even give you a chance to explain. I'm sorry."

Jack blinked. That was not what he had been expecting. "It's fine."

"No it's not!"

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"We upset you. We hurt you and there's no excuse for that. Whether you did your project or not, that doesn't give us the excuse to treat you that way."

Jack stood there silently, completely shocked. Then he gave a half smile, "All's forgiven Dave. And listen, I did the project. I had it mostly done, but, it, uh, it got ruined. The entire thing. I have to start over that, that's why I couldn't come. It was ruined right as I was leaving. Here," He pulled out his phone and showed him the picture, "This is what I had before it, y'know."

David stared at it, eyes wide. "Jack, you painted this?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "It's nothin'. Just some basic stuff."

"But Jack, this is amazing! Do you think you can make it again? Before next Friday?"

He shrugged again, "Probably. Like I said, it's nothing special."

"You gotta show Katherine this!"

Jack involuntarily flinched. That was someone he really didn't want to talk to.

David gave a sad smile, "Look, I know she can be… difficult at times, but she's really not a bad person. She just doesn't… get everything. She speaks before she thinks and it backfires. A lot. I'm not saying that you owe her anything, but you should give her a chance. Show her this," he handed the phone back. "She'll be shocked and feel even worse about the whole thing. Trust me."

The bell rang and he checked his watch, "I should probably get to class, see you later!" He gave a short wave and was gone.

~N~

The class that he had been dreading. Drama. He honestly didn't know if he could face Race after yesterday. At this point he'd rather have a sit down with Katherine then walk into the theatre.

He didn't look up or make eye contact with anyone as he made his way to the backroom. Jack didn't even think. He just grabbed a paintbrush and went at the canvas. Just paint. Paint a beautiful world far away. Somewhere people would leave him alone and he could just breathe. Somewhere he didn't have to hide or worry about things like food or clothes. Somewhere where waking up in the morning was a good thing, not something that he dreaded. Somewhere, anywhere but HERE.

He chucked the paintbrush at the door, letting out a frustrated yell. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing heavily.

The door opened and Jack jerked his head up to meet the intruder. It was Medda. Of course it was Medda. As if he hadn't made a fool of himself in front of enough people already.

"Is everything okay baby?" She only took a couple of steps in the room before bending down and picking up the paintbrush. Jack winced slightly when he realized that there was paint on the door and floor.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine. Shouldn't have, uh, I shouldn't have done that. It was stupid. I'm sorry."

"It's alright baby, I think it adds… personality." She smiled and held out the paintbrush. He returned the smile best as he could before taking the few steps required to retrieve the brush.

"I heard you are going to be joining us for dinner!" She sounded excited. Not annoyed like Jack expected her to be.

He shrugged, "Maybe, I don't want to impose…" _or face Race_.

"Really hon, it's no imposition at all! The more the merrier," she smiled again, "Tyler will meet you here after school if you want to come." She turned to leave, then paused, "You know, you remind me a lot of him before he came to live with me. I think you might find that you two have more in common than you think." Then she left, leaving Jack wondering what exactly she meant.

~N~

"Jack Kelly to the office please."

Jack froze in the middle of the hallway.

He'd done it. He'd finally done it. He'd screwed up enough that the office was getting involved. This was the second time in two weeks that he had been called to the office. The first time was just over an elective, but this time, he had skipped class. He had just walked out. They had caught him and now Snyder was going to kill him.

Kids pushed past him on the way to lunch. That's where he should be going. Not to the office. Didn't prisoners get a last meal before execution? Couldn't they have waited an hour? Get him out of History not lunch.

He walked slowly to the office and knocked on the door.

"Come in,"

He went in, trying to stop his hands from shaking. Mr Kloppman looked up, "Jack! Please, have a seat."

Jack did as he was told.

"So," the older gentleman began, "How are you liking Drama?"

Jack shrugged, "It's good. Ms Medda has me on set designs."

"I'm sure they'll be wonderful!"

There was silence, before Kloppman cleared his throat, "Jack, several of your teachers have mentioned to me that you've been sleeping through class."

_Here it comes. I'm dead._

"They've also mentioned that you rarely get your homework turned in on time, if at all."

_I mean to get it done, it just always ends up at the bottom of my priority list._

"I know it's been a while since we've talked about your home life, you've been in the same one for almost two years now, but I thought this might be a good opportunity to catch up."

_Before I'm killed._

"So, how is the home? Do you still like it?"

Jack nodded, "Yeah, it's great."

_Come on, try to sound realistic._

"Your foster father, Snyder, you like him? He's nice to you?"

"Yes, sir." _Change the subject_. "It's my fault. I've been staying up late working on this project. I guess I don't have the best time management skills." He laughed.

When had lying become so hard? He'd always acted like Snyder was great, like he was fine, but these last couple days, he'd barely been able to keep himself together. And now, he was finding that all he wanted to do was tell the truth. Tell the truth and get out. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. It would just cause more problems for everybody.

"I think that's true of all teenagers." Kloppman smiled. "I just want to remind you that, I'm here if you need to talk. I know that the transition can be hard, even after all this time. And if you don't want to talk to your principal, we have counselors on staff to help. But you have to let someone know. Maybe get a planner so you can make sure you're doing all of your work. And make sure to get lots of sleep, okay son?"

_Like that was going to happen._

"Yes, sir. Um, can I leave now?"

Kloppman nodded, "Go on, you can get to class."

Class? Then he'd missed lunch completely.

"Thank you, sir."

He hadn't said anything about calling Snyder. Jack sighed in relief. So long as he straightened up his act he would be fine.

~N~

David wasn't there.

Jack approached their normal table cautiously. Katherine was sitting there alone. She seemed to be preoccupied on her phone. He sat down across from her and she looked up.

"Uh, hey." She started, sounding less sure of herself than Jack had ever heard. "So, about yesterday, look I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said, well, anything, that I said. I called you out something that I shouldn't have even known and I hurt you. I really am sorry." She was twisting her hands nervously.

If Jack had been surprised when Davey apologized, he was absolutely shocked now.

"Don't worry about it."

"But I do! I mean, sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain and I end up saying stupid things. That's one of the reasons I write, it's easier to… censor myself."

Jack couldn't help but smile, "Listen Kath, it's fine, really. Believe it or not I've heard worse insults and I've recovered. See, good as new. I Shouldn't have flipped out the way that I did. So, we good?"

"Yeah, we're good." She smiled back. "So, uh, David said you had something to show me?"

He pulled out his phone, "Oh, uh yeah. It's the project. It got ruined right as I was leaving and, that's why I didn't show up. It was almost done too. Don't worry though, I should be able to make a new one before next week."

He handed it over and she gasped. "Jack, you painted that?"

Why did everyone keep having that reaction?

"Yeah, all by myself." He let out a nervous laugh.

"Jack, this, this is amazing! You didn't tell me you could paint."

The nervousness was gone as he let out a real laugh, "I'm pretty sure I did. When we first met. You were too busy deciding you didn' want me around to notice."

"Jack!" She called out playfully.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, "Hey, I calls them how I sees them."

Katherine handed the phone back to him. "Okay, so you can paint and you have been working on it. I can't wait to see the whole thing!"

"Yeah, don't worry about it, okay? I'll finish it before you can even start to worry about it." He winked at her.

Where did this come from? Was he.. Flirting? What? Why would he do that?

Almost immediately David showed up. He seemed rather pleased with himself as he sat down. "So, let's finish this thing up so we can all enjoy our weekend."

~N~

It was 3:45. If Race didn't show up in the next five minute he was leaving. The only reason he was here to begin with was that he was starving. He was almost out of the bars that were left in his locker. They wouldn't last all weekend and he had missed lunch today thanks to his 'talk'. He didn't want to face Race, but wanted food more.

Race was coming down the hall. Then he stopped, making eye contact with Jack. He continued coming up, his pace was slightly quicker, almost excited. "You're here!"

"This is where Ms Medda said to meet, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just didn't..." He trailed off.

"Expect me to show?"

"Well, yeah."

_Well, I didn't expect to be here. So I really can't blame ya._

"So, your brother's?"

"Oh, yeah, right! Do you mind walking? Mamma went to pick up the pizza and I think he already left, said he had to do something first. I mean, if you really don't want to, I can call one of them, I'm sure they wouldn't mind picking one of us up-"

Jack laughed. He didn't know why. This kid knew how to talk. It kind of reminded him of Crutchie. Maybe that's why he couldn't help but smile. "Walking's fine kid, let's just get goin', yeah?"

"Yeah."

**~TH~**

**Their, I redeemed Katherine. Kind of.**

**Anyway, in case you were wondering, I don't plan on turning this into a Jackrine story. It's just here because, come on, it's Jack Kelly. He flirts. That's just who he is.**

**So, Jack, right? He's not as closed off. Still closed off, but not NEARLY as bad as before.**

**And Medda is an absolute doll. I love her so much.**

**Leave me any thoughts you might have!**

**Stay safe and God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	11. Chapter 11

**DAY 5!**  
**I don't know if I've ever posted this consistent.**

**Please enjoy this chapter! It's not even 2k words but it took me 6hrs to write.**

**Enjoy!**

**~TH~**

"This is his building." Race said, pulling out a key and practically running up a flight of steps.

Jack looked at the building. It was a large apartment building, a lot like his own, this one was nicer though. He followed race up to the third story

"Spot!" Race called, opening the door.

"Wait, Spot?!" Jack followed him inside. It was a small, one-bedroom apartment. The living room was separated from the kitchen with a counter. A small table sat to the side of the room. An old couch sat on a rug further back in the room, a small TV across from it. There was a door beside the kitchen and two against the far wall. Other than that it was pretty empty.

Spot appeared from the back room. "Oh, hey. Come on in. Medda's not here yet, but just make yourself comfortable."

Jack hung out behind Race, walking slowly while Race practically threw himself on the couch.

"Wait," Jack finally said, "You're Race's brother?"

Spot smirked, "Yeah, he's my brother."

"And you love me!" Race called from the couch.

"That's uh, cool." He said, still standing in the middle of the room.

"You can sit down y'know." Spot laughed going into the kitchen.

Jack tentatively sat on the other end of the couch. Race seemed to be looking at something on his phone. Jack stared silently at the wall, wondering if this had really been a good idea.

"He's not my biological brother."

Jack looked over caught off guard by the sudden comment.

"We were in the same foster home for almost four years. It was the not good kind." Race had peaked up at him, but then returned to his phone. "Had to put up with a lot. Spot got the worst of it 'cause he's older. Always took it like a champ though."

"Hey, are you talking about me in there?"

"Why ever would you think that." Race shouted. He had this sarcastic smile on his face. "Anyway, Spot aged out about a month before Medda took me in. Apparently our foster mom was on heroin. The story I got was the dad sold it, but I don't know how much of it is true. Momma didn't like to talk about them. That was almost a year ago."

This was a lot of information. It seemed to be coming out of nowhere. Jack hoped that Race didn't expect him to return the favour.

"Momma would have taken Spot too, but somebody," he raised his voice, clearly pointing the comment at the older boy in the connecting kitchen, "is too stubborn to accept help!"

"Hey, I accept help," He said, entering the living room and sitting on the couch arm near Race. "But I can take care of myself too. Got this place for myself, huh? And Medda cosigned, so I'd say I did accept some help."

Is this what Medda had been talking about when she said that they had a lot in common? They both came from foster homes? Was there more? It wasn't like he could just ask!

Just then the door swung open and Medda appeared holding five boxes. "I've got pizza!"

Race jumped up to grab them from her and Spot went over too. Jack awkwardly got to his feet, following a safe distance behind.

After he had set the pizza down, Race went to grab a slice. Medda shut the box, "Wash your hands, young man." She turned to Spot, "You too."

Medda then smiled at Jack. "Good to see you here, hunny. The bathroom is through that door if you would rather not try to fight past those to hoodlums." She motioned towards where Spot and Race were fighting over the soap in the kitchen.

"Yeah, uh, thanks." He smiled, following her instructions towards the second door on the far wall.

~N~

The pizza was amazing. Jack ate four slices. He didn't feel bad because Spot ate almost an entire box by himself and Race nearly matched him.

Jack spent most of the time watching them. They seemed so happy. They made jokes and playfully threw things and hit each other. It was refreshing. Back at the group home, Jack had never shied away from physical touch. When he was younger his mother had once told him that his love language was touch. He didn't know what that meant, but he seemed to always have one of the younger boys hanging off of him. Especially Crutchie. It hadn't been unusual for the younger boy to crawl into his bed. He had loved it. Loved it all. But not anymore. Now, every time someone touched him it only brought back bad memories. He didn't like to be touched because it meant pain.

"Hey Jack, catch." Race through a ball at him and he caught it. It was a squishy ball, stress ball maybe? Spot had been trying to get it away from his brother for the last fifteen minutes.

"Nice." Spot commented, "Do you play?"

Jack rolled the ball in his hands. "Used to play baseball. Haven't played in a while. But the group home I was in had a big fenced-in yard so we'd go out and play sometimes."

He threw the ball back, Spot intercepted it. "Ha!"

"Jack!" Race wined, "Now you've got to help me get it back!"

"What?" He couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up.

"Come on, I trusted you and you let him get it!"

Jack glanced at Medda, "Go ahead, it's okay, really."

He stood up and playfully lunged at the ball in Spot's hand.

~N~

They had won. Of course, they had. Two against one and they were both taller than Spot.

It had been fun.

Actually fun.

And Jack couldn't remember the last time he had truly had fun.

They ended up collapsed on the couch, some Netflix movie playing in the background. "Jack, smile,"

He turned to see Race holding up his phone, the front camera on.

Jack tended to shy away from pictures. They could be revealing and cause problems. But, it couldn't really hurt, right? He smiled and Race took the picture. Spot suddenly appeared in the background right as the picture was being taken.

"Hey, give me your number and I'll send it to you."

Jack didn't even hesitate. He was looking at the picture over Race's shoulder. He was smiling and happy. It didn't even look like him.

The message came through in a group chat. Spot's number popping up. He saved Race's number along with the picture then deleted the message, slipping the phone back in his pocket.

They went back to watching the movie.

~N~

"Race, baby, it's almost eleven, I think it's about time we get home." Medda said rising from the table where she had spent most of the night, "Jack, do you need a ride? I can drop you off."

He shook his head, "No ma'am, I can walk. It's not too far from here."

"Okay, well, I'll see you Monday. Spot, if you need anything you know where to find me."

He nodded, then Race whispered something in his ear and he playfully whacked him on the back of the head. "Get outta here," Spot lightly shoved him.

"Night Spot, love ya," he waved, going out the door."

Spot waved using only two fingers and his thumb.

Jack stood there, unsure of what he should do. "I, uh, I guess I should be goin'."

"Take the leftover pizza." Spot said, pointing to the mostly full box on the counter. Medda had gotten more than even the four of them could have ever eaten. "Here," He reached down and grabbed a grocery bag, handing it to Jack. "You can put it in this if you don't want to carry the box."

"You sure, I mean, I-" He looked at the bag and froze. "This is the same bag that the bars came in."

"It's where I work, so?"

"It was you. You left them in my locker."

Spot shrugged, "I don't like that kind. You looked like you could use them."

_Just ask him. Ask._

"Hey, Spot, I was wondering, I mean, you don't have to answer or anything, but I was just wondering, Race, uh, Race said that you two were in a, in a bad home for a while and I was just-" He stopped. He had Spot's full attention. "You know what, never mind, forget I said anything." He walked towards the door but was stopped by Spot's voice.

"Kelly, just sit down will ya?"

Jack contemplated his options, before turning around. Spot had moved over to the kitchen table and was motioning towards one of the chairs. Jack sat in it and Spot sat across from him.

"So you're asking about the home, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." He fidgeted with his hands, wringing the top of the plastic bag.

Spot nodded, crossing his arms, "It was bad. There was some physical abuse, but I guess it would really be filed more under neglect. Not a lot of food, bad living place. The first two years were the worst. I was there a year before Tyler came, so five years altogether. When I turned sixteen I got a job. They didn't care. I was already playing football so I took morning shifts. Started saving up. That's how I got this place. Helped feed us both."

"Would he ever hit you?"

_What! Don't ask that! Why would you ask something like that! Idiot!_

"Yeah. Sometimes. Especially if business had gone bad. Just the basic stuff, mostly hit me. The woman liked the belt, she went after Race a couple of times. Not all the time, but often enough. Most of the time she was too high to realize what was going on."

"How, uh, how'd you get out?"

"Turned eighteen. I didn't even say goodbye to them. Just got my stuff and left. Still checked on Race when I could. I planned to drop out of school. I was a year behind and wanted to just work full time. Would have if my boss wasn't my football coach. He found out about it. Wouldn't let me drop out. Helped me get this place, upped my hours, gave me a raise. Hardly a month later the cops got Race out. Apparently Medda called CPS. Worked out for them because it doubled as a drug bust."

Jack just stared at him. That's why he had noticed things. He knew. He knew because he had been there.

"The police don't always help though. Race got lucky." He didn't know why he said it. It was almost like he needed to defend his position on the topic. Sure, one kid had lucked out, but things would just get worse for him.

Spot shrugged, "I don't know. I do wonder what would have happened if I had gone to someone. Maybe we both could have gotten out of there a lot quicker."

Jack glanced up at the clock on the microwave. It was nearly midnight. "I, uh, I should probably get going. It's late."

"Yeah, you need a ride?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Uh, thanks for the pizza," he held up the bag. "See ya Monday."

"Yeah, and Jack." He turned around to look at Spot, "I'm serious. Text me if you need me."

"I will." And he actually meant it.

**~TH~**

**HAPPY JACK!**

**Now you know why this was so hard to write.**  
**I don't usually write happy.**  
**Enjoy happy Jacky while it lasts...**  
**yeah...**  
**While it lasts...**

**So you finally know the full story of Spot and Race!**  
**I've been working up to it for a while and I'm glad to finally have it all out there.**

**Let me know if you have any thoughts!**

**Stay safe and Gosh bless,**  
**Jamie**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hehehehehe**

**Day 6!**

**And honestly, I'm sorry.**

**Remember I gave you a happy child last chapter.**  
**Remember that.**  
**And...**  
**um...**  
**while we're at it...**

**TW: Child abuse**

**~TH~**

Jack's eyes slowly blinked open. The sun was streaming through the window which was… odd. He typically woke up before the sun. He looked at his phone. 8 a.m.

He had actually slept for a solid seven hours.

He closed his eyes and just listened. There was no sound. No shouts. Nothing but absolute silence. Getting up, he peaked out the door. Everything was in order. Snyder's bedroom door was open and the front door was unlocked. The Spider was gone for at least the morning.

Jack smiled. He changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants that were too thin to offer any real warmth. The paint supply Medda had given him was still sitting in one of his drawers. A blank canvas behind his dresser was the first to come out. He'd gotten two originally and was now glad that he had.

He started painting the canvas. It was practically what he had done before, but more practiced. It also went a lot quicker since he knew what he wanted to do.

He was almost at the place he was before when the front door opened. The painting was the first thing hid away, quickly followed by the paints.

His name was screamed from the other room. Jack noticed immediately that it wasn't a typical "I'm angry in general time to take it out out you" yell, but a "You really did something this time" kind.

Before he could even begin to make his way out, his door was swung open. Snyder was wearing one of his nicer shirts along with black dress pants. He looked furious. Far above what Jack had ever witnessed and he immediately felt fear threatening to overtake him.

"Guess where I've been all morning, boy!" He shouted, causing Jack to flinch back. "I received a call yesterday asking me to meet at the school today. Apparently my foster son has been falling behind in his schoolwork!"

_They called._

_I was sure he had gotten out of it._

_No._

_Please no._

"So I get there and the principal informs me that not only do you rarely turn your homework in, but you also sleep during class! You also tend to show 'anti social tendencies and nervousness'! Do you know how suspicious this makes me look!? Do you know what you could have done!?"

Jack didn't know what in him snapped, but he suddenly felt so angry that his fear vanished. "Well, maybe, I wouldn't sleep during class if you didn't have me up all night trying to breathe through whatever injury you decided to leave me with! Maybe I'd get my homework done if my top priority wasn't eating and just surviving 'till the next day! Maybe if you actually treated me like a human being and not some punching bag with a check attached you wouldn't be having this problem!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wanted them back. His eyes doubled in size and he took a step back, sucking in a breath.

If Snyder had been angry before, he was downright furious now.

"What did you say to me, boy?!"

"Mr Snyder, please, I'm sorry, I-I didn't, I didn't mean-"

He didn't get to finish as he was roughly grabbed and yanked out the door. Jack watched in what seemed to be slow motion as he was dragged past the closet and into the Spider's room.

Time sped back up as he landed on the floor. Snyder locked the door and turned back to Jack. The boy actually found himself fearing for his life.

"Shirt off now!"

Jack remained frozen on the floor, trying to gulp in as much air as his lungs would allow. He couldn't, he wouldn't…

"Mr Snyder, please," he felt tears threaten as he tried to beg his way out of it.

"Now Kelly before I rip it off myself!"

Shaking so badly that he could barely function, he pulled the shirt off and dropped it on the floor.

"Against the wall."

His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't breathe.

"Please," he whispered one last time before he was roughly grabbed and shoved against the wall.

Jack inched his hands up until they were slightly higher than his head, laying his open palm flat against the cool wall. He could hear it. Hear the belt being undone and the sound it made as the leather passed through each of the belt loops.

He was trying to breathe. Trying to remember the way that Race's chest had risen and fallen so effortlessly, so smoothly. It wasn't working.

Snyder leaned over so his mouth was next to Jack's ear. The boy squeezed his eyes shut.

"I've put up with you for too long Kelly, I've been going too easy on you. Now you're forcing me to teach your manners the hard way. Maybe if you weren't such an idiot you'd have learned all this by now!"

The first time the belt came down on his back, all he managed was a choked sob. Agony raced up his back and his forehead was pressed firmly against the wall. The second wasn't any easier to take.

This wasn't the first time Jack had gotten the belt, but it had been a long time. After the first three month of his stay he had learned to keep quiet, stay out of the way, and just do what he was told. Snyder had said it was his joy to break him. That it was what he deserved. After all he was a juvenile delinquent and it was his job as a foster parent to straighten him out.

The beatings hadn't stopped, but this, this part had.

On the fifth lash he finally screamed.

Snyder laughed.

It went on for what seemed like forever. It had never lasted this long before. He'd never gotten anything this bad.

He lost count of the lashes somewhere in the twenties. His legs gave out not longer after that and he ended up on his knees.

Snyder didn't even pause.

He felt dizzy. He wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore. It was just the constant excruciating pain. There came a point where there was no new skin left to hit, so it came down on top of the already brutalized part of his back. He screamed. And cried. And begged. And prayed to whatever Gosh was out there that it would stop. That it would just stop.

The belt came down on his upper arm, where he was shielding his head, and caught part of the back of his neck.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut tighter. The world had began to fade into black. He was sure he wasn't breathing now. Just when he thought he would finally get the blessed relief of unconsciousness, a hand was in his hair, yanking him up.

"Had enough yet, Kelly?"

Jack nodded his head, not finding enough oxygen to answer any other way.

"Don't EVER talk to me like that again, do you understand me? Get your work done and stay awake in class. This is your last warning Kelly. If I get anymore calls, or see you sneaking out anymore windows, or if you even say one thing out of turn, I swear I'll kill you and take away everything your stupid little heart cares about."

The words were heard clearly while the rest of the world seemed to be in a haze. They must have been moving because whenever Jack realized that he was again alone, he was on his bedroom floor.

He took one shuddering, gasping breath before the black finally took over.

**~TH~**

**I'm sorry, but I have been anxiously awaiting the point where I could write this chapter since I started this fic.**

**I apologize.**  
**But I don't.**  
**Because I love it.**

**Thoughts?**

**Let me know in the comments!**

**Or stop by Tumblr and yell at me. That would work too lol.**

**Until next time...**

**Stay safe and God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	13. Chapter 13

**_Okay, again, it's 1am, but I didn't sleep. So it counts.  
Day 7!  
I made it a week!  
Just be glad you aren't following me for Marvel stuff... I haven't updated DKoT since... forever._**

**_Anyway..._**

**_This chapter is a bit different in style. You may hate it, and if you do I'm sorry, but it's necessary._**

**_This is probably the only chapter like this, so just bear with me._**

**_TW: Minor suicidal thoughts_**

**_~TH~_**

He awoke with a strangled gasp, trying to curl in on himself from a sudden pain in his side. The burning in his back caused him to stop moving and just breathe through the pain.

"I've been talking to you, boy, but I don't think you've been listening." Jack blinked his eyes open. All he could see was Snyder's shoes.

"I-I'm sorry sir." He managed to stutter out.

Snyder let out a low chuckle, "It's been a while since I've seen you this afraid of me, Kelly. Maybe we should do that more often."

_Oh please no._

Jack let out an involuntary whimper causing Snyder to laugh harder.

"Anyway, boy, I'm going to work."

_Work? But it was only-_

"Don't look at me like that, it's Monday morning. I've called you in sick until Wednesday. You are not to leave this room until I get back. If I find out any differently I will not hesitate to lock you in the closet. I'm done being easy on you, Kelly." A rag was dropped in front of his face. "Clean yourself up."

The shoes walked away and the door was shut. Jack closed his eyes, and took a shallow breath. Even breathing hurt. Had he really slept all of Sunday? He had a vague recollection of darkness and pain, maybe he had woken up at some point.

Gathering all the willpower he had, he pushed himself up on all fours. He bit his lips to keep from calling out. He held that position, panting. Jack reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed the rag. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he worked his way to his feet. He stumbled, catching hold of the edge of the dresser. A small amount of water sloshed on his hand and he noticed for the first time that there was a bowl of water sitting on the top of the dresser. Snyder hadn't been kidding in when he said not to leave his room.

Jack wasn't stupid and he knew what his body could and couldn't take. If he tried to clean his back, he was going to pass out. He wasn't exactly sure how to clean it completly, but the lashes getting infected was an outcome no one wanted. Then again it might kill him. That would be a plus.

He shook away the thought. He couldn't go there now.

Picking up the bowl, he dropped the rag in the water, realizing that the simple task of carrying it would take both hands in his current state. Jack sat on the edge of his bed, placing the bowl on the small nightstand.

His back hurt. No. That was an understatement. His back was in agonoy. Even the smallest movement, the smallest breath, stretched the broken skin. It had never been this bad. Jack had never feared for his life more than in the moments in Snyder's room.

He wondered if his back was still bleeding, but wasn't going to reach back and touch it. The lashes would have dried by now, right? It had been what, twenty-four, thirty-six, hours? His phone seemed so far away sitting on the other side of the stand. He'd have to lean over and reach and… and it just wasn't worth it.

Grabbing the rag, he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

~N~

He woke up on his side, not exactly sure how he'd managed to pass out that way or how long he'd been unconscious. Snyder hadn't come in to yell at him, so it couldn't have been too long. Not like the previous day at least.

Jack forced himself to sit up. However clean his back currently was, was as good as it was going to get. He groaned as he reached for his phone. Before he even looked at it, he laid back down, now on his stomach.

When he turned on the phone he was greeted with dozens of messages.

**_Race_**

**Where r u?**

**U coming today?**

**.**

**_Spot_**

**Haven't seen you today just checking in**

**Jack seriously**

**Where are you**

**_._**

**_Katherine_**

**Hey, Jack, sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if you were going to be here today.**

**It's not because of what I said the other day, right?**

**I really am sorry about that.**

**Come on Jack, answer me.**

**Please?**

**_._**

**_Davey_**

**Kath wanted me to text you**

**She said you're ignoring her**

**Anyway, you don't have to worry about the project. We got an extension on it. Because there are so many projects and you're not here today we're going next Tuesday.**

**Jack, if this is you just ignoring us then tell Spot or someone else to tell us because Kath is starting to get worried.**

**_._**

**_Katherine_**

**I just want to make sure you're not dead.**

**You're not, right?**

**You're not answering anyone's texts…**

**_._**

**_Race_**

**If u dont answer me im asking those two kids your doing a project with**

**Im serios**

**Answer me so i dont have to go talk to strangers**

**Srsly jack**

**_._**

**_Katherine_**

**A kid named Tyler just came up and asked if we knew where you were at.**

**He looked worried.**

**Are you okay?**

**_._**

**_Race_**

**Srsly where r u?**

**_._**

**_Spot_**

**Kelly if you dont answer me ill find your apartment and knock the door in. Dont think i wont. Ask race. Id do it.**

**_._**

**_Katherine_**

**Okay, I'll leave you alone, but just, please let me know you're okay.**

**_._**

**_Spot_**

**You better be at home or something and not dead in some alley near my house.**

**_._**

**_Race_**

**Spot said if u didnt answer b4 schools out to find ur adress in the office and i plan on doing it.**

**If this is some sick joke id bale out now**

**.**

Jack blinked at the texts. He felt a wave of emotions that he didn't quite understand. People actually cared? He'd never… No one had ever checked on him before. He'd missed school before. No one ever seemed worried. He didn't even think about telling anyone that he was staying home.

His eyes glanced up to the time. It was almost 3:00. The first text was from 9:07. School ended at 3:30.

He opened the text from Race.

**Race**

**...Hey im fine**

**...****Sorry**

**...****I was asleep**

**Where r u?**

**...****Home**

**...****I wasnt feeling well**

**...****Sry**

**...****Should have let someone know**

While waiting for an answer he moved on. He honestly didn't know what to think of all the messages he had received.

**Spot**

**...****Im fine**

**...****At home**

**...****Not dead lol**

A series of texts came through, but Jack only read them before messaging back David and Katherine.

**_Race_**

**In class rn**

**Will tlk after school**

**Katherine**

**...****I wasnt ignoring u**

**...****I was asleep**

**...****Not feeling well**

**...****Sorry i worried you**

**...****Really wasnt trying to ignore you**

**Good lol**

**Sorry that you're sick**

**Hope you feel better *heart***

**Davey**

**...****Sorry I was asleep**

**...****I txted Kath**

**...****That good about the project**

**...****Will try to bring in my part by friday**

**...****Got to work on it some this weekend**

**Sounds good :)**

**Spot**

**Dont just disappear**

**Let someone know if your going to be gone**

**...****Will do**

**...****Sorry**

**Its fine**

**Just dont do it again**

**...****Ok**

**Why ru home**

**...****Not feeling well**

**...****Nothing serious**

**...****Just not feeling great**

**Ok**

**...****U be back tomorow?**

**...****No**

**...****Gonna take another day**

**...****Should be there wed**

**K, let me know if u need anything**

**...****I will**

Jack waited for a few minutes, leaving Race's message up. He was struggling to understand why people seemed to care so much about him. He'd known these people for less than two weeks. And even then, Katherine and David only tolerated him right? For Race it kind of made sense. After all, he'd invited him over. And Spot seemed oddly protective of him, but even then. It was one day of school. He hadn't expected anyone to get this worked up about it.

Part of him felt bad, but Jack couldn't help but smile at it. People had gotten this worried about _him_.

**Race**

**u still there?**

**...****Yup**

**You cant do that. You gotta let someone know ****when your gonna be gone.**

**...****I know**

**...****Spot already yelled at me lol**

**Im serios jack.**

**...****I will race**

**...****Im sorry**

**...****Wont do it again**

**But u r ok?**

**...****Yeah**

**...****Just tired**

**...****Ill be back wed**

**...****Gonna give it another day**

**What's wrong?**

**...****Nothing too bad**

**...****Just the basic**

**Ok**

**Just be careful k?**

**Lemme know if u need something**

**...****Ok**

**...****Thx**

**K**

**Ill let u get rest now**

**Night**

**Even tho its only 4 lol**

**...****Night lol**

Jack read back through all of the texts, smiling. The smile stayed even as he deleted the messages.

**_~TH~_**

**_Like I said, different.  
Yes, the spelling errors are intentional lol._**

**_Let me know what you thought!_**

**_Did you hate this style, like it, tolerate it, just let me know!_**

**_Just for the record ff. net does not like the way I formatted that. If you wanna see what it's supposed to look like, check out Ao3._**

**_Let's see if we can keep this update schedule for the next week...  
I'll try..._**

**_Keep motivating me with comment and I'll do my very best to get a chapter every day._**

**_Stay safe everybody!_**

**_God bless,  
Jamie..._**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry that this took so long to get out...**  
**(But lets be honest, if you've followed any of my other stories you know that this is actually a pretty small break)**  
**I had major writer's block over this chapter.**  
**(That and I've been watching Tangled the Series and would die for either Euguene or Varian)**

**I'm still not a fan of how this chapter turned out, but sometimes you've gotta run before you walk, y'know?**

**Anyway... Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**~TH~**

Race sat in homeroom, rapidly tapping his pencil. Jack said he was going to be back today. He had honestly been scared when Jack wasn't answering anyone. All the possibilities kept running through his head. He knew Jack was in a bad home. He didn't have any proof of it, but he knew it. His gut instinct had told him that on the day they met. He hadn't been able to get Jack to really open up, but on Friday... On Friday Jack had been like a completely different person.

Spot had told him that Jack and him had had a good conversation. He wouldn't say anymore, and Race respected Jack's privacy enough to not push.

But then Monday had happened. Jack wasn't at school. He didn't go to drama, he wasn't at lunch, he wasn't even in the library. Spot had no clue where he was and even the two kids with the project had seemed worried that no one could get a hold of him.

Race didn't care what Jack said, he knew he wasn't just sick. Spot knew too and was angry. There was a serious possibility of Spot calling the cops if Jack hadn't answered when he did.

His phone vibrated.

**_Jack_**

**I'm here**

He responded without opening.

**How are you feeling?**

**Jack: Better**

**Good**

The bell rang and the teacher turned to the front of the class. Race put his phone away.

~N~

Race saw Jack slip into the theatre. He looked even more closed off than he had been before. He was wearing the hoodie that he always wore, the hood was up.

He followed Jack to the back room. The older boy kept his back turned to him.

"Hey, Race." He said in a quiet voice.

"Uh, hey, feeling better?"

"Yeah, wasn't anything too bad, just a headache and stuff."

"Yeah." Jack's movements were tense as he reached for a paint brush. He seemed to almost flinch. He began to pain the back drop, never raising the brush above his shoulders.

Race's eyes caught the small red stream coming from the back of his neck. "Jack, your neck is bleeding."

Jack froze, his hand going back and coming away red. He cursed, turning around and setting the paint brush in a cup of water and holding a probably very unsanitary rag to his neck.

"Walk into another door?" Jack's eye had darkened and there looked to be some kind of bruise across his nose.

"Forget it, okay? It's not worth it."

"Jack," He tried to keep the anger he was feeling out of his voice. He wanted to sound comforting, maybe get him to talk. "If someone's hurting you, that's not okay."

Jack turned his back away, throwing the rag down and picking up the paintbrush. "I'm fine, just drop it, please." His voice was quiet, almost broken. Not at all the defensive response Race was used to.

"Then what's wrong with your neck."

"Nothing, I cut it. It was an accident."

The frustration he was trying to suppress finally broke through, "Do you really think I don't know a belt mark when I see it? That's why you missed school, right? Were you sleeping or unconscious? Huh? This is serious Jack!"

"It's nothing! I said it's nothing, okay?! Just leave it!" His voice was strained.

Race practically slammed the door shut, locking it.

Jack turned with wide eyes, "What- what are you doing?!"

Before he could let the fear of what he was doing take over him, he pulled off his shirt and turned around. "I get it Jack! Okay, I get it! You're scared and you don't want anyone to get hurt!" He felt more than saw Jack take a few steps towards him. He didn't stop him when Jack genty ran a finger over one of the scars. He softened his voice, "I want to help. I won't, I won't tell anybody you don't want to know," _yet_ "but you gotta let me help."

He finally turned around. Jack was looking at him with a mixed expression on his face.

Then, very slowly, he pulled his arms into his sweatshirt and gingerly slipped it off. He didn't turn around. He just stood there, blankly staring at the wall.

Race slowly walked around to see his back. Jack flinched when he walked by but didn't say or do anything else. Race couldn't stop the gasp. There were a lot of them. A lot of lashes. There was one that looked like it might be starting to get infected.

"Have you cleaned them?"

"Tried to. Don' know how clean they got though." His voice was void of all emotion.

Race made a decision, "You're coming home with me and I'm cleaning them."

"No, it's fine. We can't just, just leave!"

"I'll talk to Medda-"

"No!"

"I won't tell her anything. Okay? She knows that you haven't been feeling well. I'll just tell her that I'm taking you to our house because it's quicker."

"Race..."

"Jack, please. If they get infected you won't be able to put on this act anyway. I've cleaned stuff like this before. Trust me. Please?"

The older boy didn't say anything, but he did sigh. Race took it as a yes. He pulled his shirt back on and went to find Medda.

~N~

When Race returned, he was relieved to find Jack still there. His shirt was back on and he was looking slightly paler.

"Come on," Jack had his backpack in the crook of his arm. "Do you want me to carry that?"

"No."

Race nodded.

Medda had given the okay to go home. She had warned him not to let things get too out of hand before he came for help. She knew, but she would never ask him to betray a friend. She would do her own investigation, but none of the information would come from Race or Spot.

They made it to the house, but Jack looked dead on his feet. Race wondered how he had made it to school.

"Do you wanna get a shower or something? You don't want it to spray right on your back, but it might make you feel some better."

"Okay."

Race showed him to the bathroom. "Wait a second," He found some of his clothes that he thought might fit Jack. They might be a little tight, or not. Jack was worryingly thin.

"If you wanna just leave your clothes outside the door I can wash them." He offered. Jack nodded before shutting the door.

Race sighed going into the kitchen. He started boiling water. He could make something. Ramen or macaroni, something.

Setting it to boil, he sat down and pulled out his phone.

**Spot**

**Took Jack to Meddas**

**He okay?**

**Belt**

**Is he okay?**

**Idk**

**It looked bad**

**Seemed in a lot of pain**

**Gonna have to clean them**

**Make him eat**

**Cooking rn**

**Jack in the shower**

**stop by if you get a chance**

**Will**

He put his phone away and added noodles to the pot.

~N~

Jack came out fifteen minutes later. Race had collected his clothes from outside the bathroom and started them in the washing machine. Hopefully they'd be ready by the time Jack left so his foster dad wouldn't notice. Assuming his foster dad paid attention to him when he wasn't going crazy with a belt. Race still didn't know too much about the man.

Race had mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was glad to finally know something was going on. He'd suspected since he first met Jack, but now he knew for sure. On the other hand... now he knew for sure.

Should he tell someone? Medda? Should he tell the school office? The Police? He still had a social worker. He could call her and tell her what was going on. But he just... couldn't. Not without the whole story. It just felt wrong. But not telling felt wrong too. He didn't know what to do.

Jack stood awkwardly in the living room. He was wearing Race's jacket, but he had left it unzipped. He wouldn't make eye contact as his eyes darted around the room.

"Sorry if that was too long." He mumbled.

"Nope. Pretty quick to be honest. Medda always gets on to me for taking ridiculously long showers. Come into the kitchen, I made mac and cheese."

Jack followed, "I'm, I'm not really hungry."

"You need to eat anyway." Race countered placing a bowl on the table.

"You know you really don't have to worry about me, I'm fine."

Race blew air out his nose, trying no to laugh. "I somehow doubt that." He sat across from him. Jack messed with the fork for a few seconds before he actually started eating.

Race tried not to stare at him. He felt guilty as a thought started working its way into his mind. He bit his lip, glancing at Jack. "It's not, it's not because you came over, right?"

Jack stopped eating, looking up confused. "Hm?"

"He didn't, your foster dad, he didn't do that to you because you were out too late or at Spot's or anything like that, right?" He hoped not. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if that had been the cause.

Jack shook his head, "Nah, I don't even think he knew I was gone. It was... it was something totally different. It was my fault, had nothing to do with you." His eyes found his bowl and Race noticed how he somehow drew even more into himself.

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault." One of the most dangerous positions for Jack to be in was if he actually blamed himself. Nothing was bad enough to deserve the beating Race had seen the evidence of, but regardless, Jack couldn't blame himself.

"It doesn't matter, Race. I said something I shouldn't have when he was already mad. He didn't like it. My fault. End of story."

"Jack-"

"Look, can we talk about something else? Please?"

Race studies him for a minute. "Yeah, okay."

There was a long stretch of silence. Race decided to just go for it. "What's his name?"

"Whose?"

"Your foster dad, what his name."

"Snyder. William Snyder." It was said with just barely a hint of malice.

"Mother?"

"Nope."

"Anyone else in the house?"

"Nope. Just me and the Spider. Glad though. Got a kid brother, Crutchie, er Charlie, at a group home. Rather him be there than, y'know."

"Yeah." It made sense. Jack had been in a group home before now. His brother was still there. Might explain why certain things comforted him. Like Jacky. That had calmed him down real fast. Sounded like a nickname given by a younger brother.

Jack dropped the fork in the bowl.

"Let's just get this over with."

Race was looking forward to this about as much as Jack was.

~N~

Jack had passed out on the couch. Whether it was pain, or exhaustion, or both, it didn't really matter. Race glanced at the clock. School would be letting out soon. He should probably wake him up so that he could get home.

He really didn't want to though. He was almost afraid of the response he would get.

Jack had taken the cleaning well. Race knew that it hurt, but Jack hadn't responded as bad as he could have. Race realized with a frown that it was probably because he was just used to being in pain.

He really needed to stop thinking about it. It was just making him angry.

The front door opened and Spot walked in. The older boy looked at the boy sleeping on the couch, his back exposed. His features hardened. "Whoever it was got him good."

"Snyder. His foster dad. Jack claims it's his fault for talking when Snyder was angry. Wouldn't listen to anything else about it."

Spot practically growled. "We gotta do something."

"Like what?"

"Tell somebody."

"We can't just do that. He obviously doesn't want anyone to know. I only found out because he was bleeding and I called him out on it. Made me promise not to tell anyone."

"This is serious, Race. We can tell Medda, she got you out."

"No!" Jack said, pushing himself up with a grimace. Race wondered when he had woken up, how much he had heard. "You can't," he looked at Race, "you promised you wouldn't."

"Yeah, well, I didn't promise nothin'." Spot crossed his arms.

Jack glared at him. "You can't tell."

"Why not."

"Because, it would just make things worse."

"Or it would get you out."

"I'm fine! Okay! It's not like this happens all the time. I said something stupid. I'll just keep my mouth shut and I'll be fine!"

Spot rolled his eyes, "You've been covered in bruises since the day I met you. Don't act like this is a one time thing."

"You can't prove anything."

"You're back makes for pretty good evidence."

Jack looked like he was about ready to pounce. Race stood up, "Jack, it's okay. We won't tell anyone."

Spot turned his attention to his brother.

"For now, okay?" He tried to beg Spot with his eyes "If things keep getting worse, we have to." Race turned his attention on Jack, watching his face. "But you have to tell us. No more hiding dangerous injuries okay."

"And by dangerous, he means any." Spot added.

"Fine. Just don't tell."

"Fine." Spot spit in his hand and Jack followed suit before shaking hands. It was something Race had seen some of the upperclassmen do, though he never really knew why.

"Uh, Medda will probably be home soon. I'll get your clothes from the dryer."

Jack nodded. Spot just watched them both his arms crossed. He knew his brother was going to be keeping an even closer watch over their new friend.

**~TH~**

**Hope you liked it!**

**Not really my best work, but it got the point across, right?**

**Will try to start updating normally again.**

**Let me know if you have any thoughts!**

**Stay safe and Gosh bless,**  
**Jamie**


	15. Chapter 15

**A new chapter!**  
**(See, I told you I was back)**

**This chapter is really short, just over 1k words, but it's one I wanted to get in here.**  
**(I completely went off script on this one, ignoring my outline, but I really needed some more Davey in here.)**

**So, enjoy!**

**~TH~**

David sat beside Katherine in the history classroom. Today was the beginning of the projects. Their group still had until Tuesday, but they would have to work outside of class.

If David was being honest, he was worried. It wasn't even about the project. Jack had shown up yesterday, but had barely said anything. They hoped he would be less withdrawn today.

Jack sat down beside them, offering a small smile. "I, uh, I brought my painting. It's in the theatre."

"Good! We can go look after class." Katherine had been… weird around Jack lately. She had been smiling more and even with the whole blowup last week, she seemed happy to have him around. And she really had been worried on Monday. David suspected that she might have a crush on him, which was… odd. Jack didn't really seem her type.

The teacher cleared her throat and Jack jumped slightly, hissing when his back hit the chair. Katherine didn't seem to notice. David tried to ignore it.

~N~

Jack led them to the theatre. He kept his head down and hood up, not making any eye contact.

"Oh, hey baby!" Jack flinched as they entered the theatre before dropping his hood and smiling at the middle aged women in front of them.

"Hey Ms Medda. I was just gonna show them my project. I was keeping it in the back with the paint."

"Not a problem, hunny, just don't be late to class." She nodded to David and Katherine.

Katherine offered a small wave while David simply nodded in return.

The back room was small and covered in paint. There was a large sheet painted with what looked like a landscape of the old west.

"Uh, this is it." Jack pulled out the canvas. It was even better than the picture he had shown them.

"It's wonderful Jack!" Katherine exclaimed.

He shrugged, "It's okay, I guess."

"Jack!" She exclaimed lightly bumping him on the arm, then moving closer to the canvas.

David watched Jack. He seemed frozen in place, his eyes were closed and his breathing wasn't quite right. After a moment he seemed to shake it off, noticing that David was watching him, he attempted to smile before looking away.

Katherine continued talking and Jack seemed to be trying to follow along, not buying her kind words. David didn't know what to think. He'd started noticing things. He hadn't even meant to, but something wasn't right. Something was wrong and he was afraid to think about what it was.

~N~

David looked out the car window, his mind churning with worrisome thoughts. He glanced at his dad in the driver's was glad that Les was staying with a friend. He didn't know if he could handle that much energy right now. And he couldn't talk to his dad if his little brother was there.

"Dad, what, what do you do when you think someone might be in trouble?"

"Well," he responded, not seeming the least but put off. "It depends on what kind of trouble. Do you think they've committed a crime, or are they failing one of their classes,"

"I think someone might be hurting him." There he had said it.

Mayer nodded slowly, "Okay, do you have any evidence?"

"Well, I mean not really, it's just, there's little things, a lot of them I never thought much of, but after this week I'm just not sure." He offered a small shrug.

"Are you thinking anything specific is happening?"

"I don't, I don't know. I mean," he didn't want to think about it, "I mean we watched this one video in class about looking for the signs of, of, sex trafficing, and a lot of the things fit. I mean, I don't know. It's just, I'm worried about him."

"That's a serious statement, David." He paused, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, "Why don't you tell me what's been going on and I'll see if I can help."

He started slowly, then in a rush of words he was telling him everything. "It's just, there's this guy in my class, I don't know him very well, but we were put in a project together. And at first he was just really annoying, not seeming to take anything serious and not wanting to talk to the teachers, but I honestly think he's afraid of them. He hates the police," David looked at his dad but he didn't seem phased, "and at first I just though, y'know, he probably has done some stupid things or just hates them because that's progressive or whatever, but it's not just police and not just teachers, it's like he's afraid of everyone. He gets all tense when people touch him and his stuff. He wears the same clothes every day and no matter how cold he is he always wears a sweatshirt, only a sweatshirt. I found out that he wore makeup, which I didn't think much of at the time, but then he got a black eye, which still didn't seem like a big deal. Then he missed most of this week. When he came back it looked even worse, and even the makeup couldn't hide a bruise on his nose. He said he was sick, but he didn't look sick, he looked hurt, just in pain. And… and I don't know, but something not right. On Monday one of his friends came over and asked if we knew where he was. The friend looked worried, almost panicked and it took him hours to answer anyone. I just, I don't know what to do."

David took a breath. He wasn't sure if his thoughts had come out coherent or not, but there were just so many little things surrounding Jack Kelly. So many things that didn't make sense.

His dad looked thoughtful, "I can see why you would be concerned. Have you told anyone else about this?"

"No, I don't want to cause trouble or anything. I just, I don't know what to do."

Mayer nodded, "I understand." He glanced at his son, "I do need to know, are you talking to me as your dad or as an officer?"

David thought for a moment, "Dad. For now at least."

"Then my advice would be to just keep an eye out. Talk to him if you can. If you can't, just see if anything else happens. If you ever want me to officially get involved, just tell me and I will."

David nodded. "Okay, I, I will."

**~TH~**

**I am not related to a policeman so I don't know how conversations like this actually go down.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Some of you may have noticed I used the 92sies name for David's dad, Mayer. It was just easier that way. It's never mentioned in Livsies but there in the original.**

**Let me know what you thought!**  
**Just a heads up, the next couple chapters are going to be rough. I will be posting triggers at the top of the chapter, so be on a lookout for that.**

**I finished season 1 of Tangled the Series and loved it so much! Between Varian and Euguene, it's just so good.**

**Anyway...**

**Please let me know what you thought!**

**Oh! And I started a YouTube channel...**  
**I don't have a name other than Jamie Dawn yet, but the title of the first video is "If Hamilton Was a Sitcom: And Peggy!"**  
**Please check it out if it interests you!**

**Stay safe and Gosh bless,**  
**Jamie**


	16. Chapter 16

**New Chapter!**  
**I'm going to end up giving you guys three short chapters in a row as the next chapter (which is already written) is also short, but that's just the way it goes.**

**Please enjoy this chapter!**

**TW: Child abuse and rape**

**~TH~**

**TW: Rape**

Jack closed his eyes. The weekend had gone pretty well so far. Only a couple more hours and Snyder would go to bed. Then Jack could be sure that he had survived the weekend. He had a few new bruises, but overall, he was fine. His back was starting to heal. So long as he didn't put too much pressure on it he was fine.

Race had texted him multiple times to make sure everything was going okay. Jack didn't want to admit it, but the fact that Race and Spot seemed to care so much really meant a lot. He couldn't remember the last time someone, other than Crutchie, had cared about him.

Charlie was supposed to call him later that night. It was hard, because the group home only had one phone. They certainly weren't going to pay for cell phones, and most of the kids didn't have people to call. It worked well enough. There were some days where Jack couldn't talk to his brother, even if he wanted to. It was probably better this way if he was being honest.

"Kelly!"

Jack closed his eyes, pressing his face into his pillow. He just wanted to be left alone. Sighing, he deleted the messages from Race and slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Yes, Mr Snyder?" He stood in the living room, off to the side of the couch. The Spider was watching TV, beer cans scattered around. Hopefully, this would just be a 'get me another beer' and then he would be left alone.

Snyder looked up, his eyes slightly glossy, "Come sit down, my boy, don't be shy."

Jack didn't know what was going on, but he sat on the other end of the couch.

"Jack," Snyder frowned. Jack recoiled. He could never remember the man ever using his first name. "Why so far away? Sit with me."

He was grabbed by the arm and pulled so he was sitting directly beside, almost on top of, his foster father. Snyder didn't remove his hand. Jack felt his heart start to pound. He had no idea what was going on.

They watched in silence for a long time. Then Snyder spoke, "I had forgotten how pretty you are boy, it's a shame I had to mess it up." Jack's face was moved to the side and he felt a sickeningly gentle finger trail down a bruise on his cheek.

"Let me see." He said, pushing Jack onto his feet.

"Sir?"

"Your back, I want to see."

Slowly, Jack pulled up the back of his shirt. He felt increasingly uncomfortable. Snyder came up behind him. Jack felt cold hands touch his waste. He dropped his shirt, spinning around. The hands fell off.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"It's sad that I had to mess up that pretty body of yours. Let's see if I can fix that, hm?"

Snyder grabbed his wrist and started pulling him towards the master bedroom. Jack's brain was whirling. He couldn't form a coherent thought. He didn't know what was happening. All he knew was that he didn't want it to be happening.

He tried to jerk his arm away but the man's grip was too strong. He kept pulling in the opposite direction, hoping for something, some way to get out of whatever was going on.

Snyder stopped pulling, causing Jack to stumble, then his back was slammed against the wall. He screamed, the world going white as pure agony ran along his still healing back.

A gentle hand reached under his chin, "Shh, everything is going to be okay."

Jack pushed him away but both of his arms were quickly grabbed.

Snyder held his wrists, tightly pressing them against the wall beside his head. There was something in his eyes that Jack had never seen before. The man leaned forward nearly on top of him. Jack's heart stopped and his breath got caught in his throat as he realized what was happening. All the pieces finally fell into place and his mind landed on what was actually happening. He was going to-

He was actually going to-

Snyder put his mouth right beside Jack's ear. "Don't be afraid, I think you're going to like this."

Jack acted on instinct, bringing up his knee into Snyder's stomach. The man let go of him, doubling over.

Jack ran.

He was in his room, almost to the window when he was grabbed from behind. "No!" He screamed, trying to get away.

Snyder shoved him down on the mattress, Jack trying to push him off. His legs were trapped by the man's body as he leaned over him. Then his hands were around Jack's neck.

"Don't fight me, boy. It's all going to be okay."

Jack clawed at the hands, trying to allow oxygen to get through. He couldn't breathe. He kicked his legs, not making any progress.

"Shh, shh, it's going to be okay, Jack."

He hated the way Snyder said his name. Hated it. It made him sick to his stomach.

The world was starting to go grey.

He was scared.

Terrified.

He pulled his foot up on the bed, moving it agonizingly slow. Then mustering all the strength he had left, he kicked out.

The hands came off and Jack rolled off the bed, gasping, trying to just breathe. He stumbled to his feet, trying not to let the dizziness overtake him.

Snyder made a final grab at him, managing to catch the shoulder of the boy's shirt. Jack yanked away, feeling the adrenaline give him strength he really didn't have. He heard a ripping sound. Ignoring it, he made it through the window, not even looking back.

He made it to an alleyway a couple of buildings down. He sank to the ground, sputtering as he crumpled.

He continued to cough, his breaths coming in a wheezing form. It was almost six. The sun had already set, casting odd shadows around him. He pulled his knees up to his chest, feeling the tears form behind his eyes. He didn't even know what he felt.

He was scared and hurt. The feeling of adrenaline was now completely gone, leaving him feeling drained.

What Snyder had tried to do…. He had tried to… He couldn't even think about it. He couldn't. He wouldn't. It didn't make sense. It wasn't okay.

He was scared.

A siren sounded in the distance, the idea that it wasn't after him didn't even cross his frazzled mind. Jack scrambled to his feet, taking off in a dead sprint. He couldn't stay. He had to get away. Get away from the apartment and, even more importantly, man inside.

**~TH~**

**...yeah**  
**That one was rough.**  
**But necessary.**

**We're reaching our climax so be prepared for bad things, okay?**  
**That's all I'm saying.**

**Next chapter is completely written. I will post it tomorrow, Lord willing.**

**I hope you all are staying safe in these times.**

**I think I might write a fic based off a dream I had... you can read about the dream on Tumblr ( Trekkiehood) and Instagram ( Trekkiehood3000). Let me know what you think.**

**Until tomorrow!**

**Stay safe and God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	17. Chapter 17

**This was I think the 4th chapter I wrote. So yes, it's been sitting here forever. Some modifications have been made, but overall, this chapter has been just waiting lol.**

**It's not as short as I thought it was.**  
**Almost 2k.**

**Most of you have already guessed this chapters POV.**

**Enjoy!**

**TW: Aftermath of the last chapter**

**~TH~**

A loud, frantic pounding caused Spot to jump slightly, raising an eyebrow, he placed his soda on the counter and went over to the door. The pounding continued becoming more desperate the longer it went on.

He opened the door a crack, before swinging it completely open. Jack practically fell into him.

"Kelly?" The kid looked awful, pale breathing heavy.

"Spot, hey, I uh-" He didn't finish running his fingers through his hair and rocking back and forth on his feet. "I, I just-"

"You, uh, wanna come in?" Spot had never seen the kid such a mess. He nodded and walked into the main room. His head jerked from side to side as if looking for something. Or someone.

He began to pace in front of the couch, mumbling to himself, his fingers constantly moving through his hair. Spot watched him, concerned. Jack had issues, he knew that, but this was a whole new level. While tired and closed off, Jack always looked put together. Now, any makeup the younger boy might have put on was gone, letting the deep bruises and the dark circles under his eyes be seen in full, especially against his currently pale skin. It looked like there were handprints around his neck. The sleeve of his shirt was torn from the shoulder all the way down and he had shown up without his sweatshirt. In January.

"So, Kelly, you gonna tell me what's going on or am I supposed to guess?"

He stopped pacing for a moment, turning and staring at him, before continuing his path. His voice was scratchy when he answered. "It was Snyder."

_No kidding._

"He, uh, he was drunk. But like, real drunk, not normal drunk. Weird drunk."

_Okay, at least he was talking._

"And normally when he gets drunk he beats on me and stuff but not-"

He stopped, breathing heavily. Spot was slightly surprised. He _knew _that Jack's foster dad hit him, but he had never been able to get him to actually admit it.

"He just, he-" Jack stopped walking using both hands to tightly grab at his hair. The boy looked to be on the verge of tears.

Spot wasn't sure exactly what to do. Jack was a mess, that was for sure, and he just kept spiralling. He found himself wishing Race was there. He was much better at dealing with these things. He was pretty sure Jack was or was about to have a panic attack.

"Have you eaten?" Spot blurted out.

Jack's head jerked up, confusion evident in his eyes.

_Weekend. Right. No school lunches._

"Sit down." He pointed to the table and waited for Jack to start moving, then went to the kitchen. He honestly didn't have much at the moment, he'd been working most of the day and hadn't had a chance to pick up anything. Keeping his eyes on Jack, whose eyes kept darting around the room, he grabbed the bread and peanut butter. The kid would probably eat whatever he put in front of him at this point.

He made the sandwich, placing it on a paper plate and slid it across the table. Jack put up a hand to stop it from sliding off, but didn't move to eat it. Spot leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, not even hiding the fact that he was watching him.

Finally, Jack picked it up and took a small bite. Spot watched as the boy who had to be starving, just stared at the food, turning it slightly in his hand. Then the sandwich was dropped back onto the plate, his eyes widening. He frantically reached for something, pulling out a vibrating phone.

Spot came closer to see what was going on. From over Jack's shoulder, he could see a picture of a younger, much happier Jack who had a blond boy on his back, leaning over his shoulder and giving one of the brightest smiles Spot had ever seen.

_Crutchie, his little brother, right?_

"Spot, Spot, I can't." Jack looked up at him, panicked, before shoving the phone at him.

"What?"

"I can't, I can't talk to him. I can't."

"Then don't answer." Spot wasn't sure what he wanted him to do.

"No! If I don't he'll freak out! Jus', jus' tell him I'm fine and will call him back later."

Spot was tempted to say no, but then he looked at Jack's face, just how scared he looked, and with a slight growl of annoyance, grabbed the phone.

"Hello?" He said, watching Jack relax the smallest amount.

"Who is this?" The voice at the other end said, sounding suspicious and slightly frightened.

"Uh, I'm Spot. One of Jack's friends." He answered, unsure of what to say.

"He hasn't mentioned you before."

Spot had a feeling Jack didn't mention a lot of people. "You're his little brother, right? Charlie?"

"Y-yeah."

"But he calls you Crutchie."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." That seemed to have reassured him. "Is Jack there?"

"No," He glanced at Jack who had resumed staring at his sandwich. "He had to go do somein', but he left his phone here to charge. I'm sure he'll call you when he gets back."

"Okay, just, make sure he knows I called."

"You got it kid."

"Well, uh, bye."

"Yeah, bye." He hung up and held out the phone. Jack didn't even seem to notice. Then Spot did something incredibly stupid, he knew it was stupid as soon as he did. He touched Jack's shoulder.

Jack jumped to his feet, flinching so hard that the chair fell to the ground. He pushed Spot away from him before backing up. His back hit the wall and his wide eyes snapped shut. He was breathing so unevenly that he couldn't have actually been getting any air.

"Jack," What had Race said that calmed him down? "Jacky, hey Jacky, you're fine. Jus', jus' try to breathe." Should he call Race? Or Ms Medda? Honestly, he was closer to calling the cops than he'd ever been in his life.

The kid looked up at Spot, his eyes clearing slightly as he sank to the floor. Tears were streaming down his face but he didn't even seem aware of it.

Spot slid down beside him, far enough away so that one of them would have to move for them to touch. Jack was hugging his knees, rocking back and forth. He still wasn't breathing right, even if he did seem a bit more aware. "Jack, I need to know what you want me to do. Do you want me to call someone? Take you to the hospital? What do you need?"

He didn't answer, just increased the speed of which he was moving. "I, I can't go back. I can't. I can't." He was going to hyperventilate if he didn't stop.

"Okay, okay, you can stay here tonight, okay? You don't have to go back. Just, calm down."

"Spot, he was going to- he tried to-"

The older boy still wasn't following. Jack pushed against the wall, rising to his feet and started pacing again. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands, occasionally breaking the habit to run his fingers through his hair. Spot stood up and took a couple steps forward but stopped when Jack began speaking again. "He, he had me, had me pinned against the wall. I-I got away and then he, he had me in the bed. I couldn't get away. And he was, was on top of me and- and I- and he was- and he was going to-"

Jack broke down, collapsing onto the couch, sobbing. Spot stood unmoving, the reality of the words sinking in.

"Did you get away?" Spot kneeled down in front of him, "Jack! Were you able to get away!?" He felt a panic rising. If Jack didn't get away before-

Jack nodded jerkily.

Spot rose to his feet and began pacing. He was going to kill him. He was going to march to Jack's apartment and kill the man.

No wonder Jack had been acting so odd. This was a new territory. This wasn't just abuse anymore.

"I'm calling them." He said anger colouring his tone, pulling out his phone and searching for the local CPS number.

"No!" Jack jerked up from his position on the couch. The kid was shaking, still crying. "Listen you, can't. If you call them it will just make things worse!"

"Jack, I know you don't want to but this isn't just a couple of punches anymore! This is serious! I don't know why you want to protect him!"

"Because he says he'll hurt Crutchie!" He screamed.

Spot stopped, looking at his friend. So that's what this was all about. He wasn't protecting Snyder, he was protecting his brother.

Jack sniffled, looking away. "He knows I got in trouble for defending Charlie. So as soon as I got there he told me, if I didn't behave he wouldn't hesitate to go after him. He's powerful. People trust him for some reason. If I tell anybody or try to run he'll convince the system to let him take him. I can't let him do that Spot!" His voice started to rise again. "I can't let that Spider have him! He, he wouldn't survive it. I can take the punches, he can't." He smiled a little, "And he's, so, so innocent. He only ever sees the good in the world. I don't want him to have to see the bad. I won't let Snyder ruin him."

Spot just stared at him, mouth slightly open. This explained so much. Jack was so much more than just a kid who was afraid or embarrassed to call the authorities, he wasn't just protecting his foster dad in some kind of twisted loyalty, he was doing it because it was the only way to keep his brother safe.

"If they arrest Snyder, he won't be able to hurt you or your brother. He'll be in jail." It was only a halfhearted plea.

Jack shook his head, his left arm was hanging at his side, clutched tightly by his right hand where his nails were digging into his skin. "I can't, can't take that risk." There was a brief pause. "Would you do it if it was Race?" He looked up, earnestly asking even though they both already knew the answer.

Spot sighed, "But you got away? Before, before- you know."

"Yeah," His voice was small, sinking back onto the couch. "I, I got away."

The older boy paced for three steps before turning. "Okay, I won't call no one, but you're staying here tonight. You can have the couch. There's blankets in that closet." He pointed towards a door between the kitchen and his bedroom. "I have an early shift tomorrow, so I should probably get some sleep." Not like either of them would actually be getting any. "If you're hungry, eat whatever." He walked over to the door, making a show of locking it, hoping it would give Jack at least a little comfort. "'Night." He finally said, disappearing into his room.

He probably shouldn't be leaving Jack alone. Spot knew that. But he didn't know what to do. This was out of his league. But he couldn't tell anybody. He couldn't break Jack's trust like that. He was the only real help the kid was getting and if he lost faith in Spot, he would go back to trying to deal with things himself.

Spot sighed as he changed and slipped into bed. It was going to be a long, restless night.

**~TH~**

**The next chapter will probably be a considerable size.**  
**We shall see though.**

**Any thoughts on... anything?**  
**Spot, Jack, Crutchie?**

**Be sure to let me know what you think overall!**

**Next chapter we get back to Jack...**  
**I'll let you decide if that's a good thing or not ;)**

**Gosh bless and stay safer than Jack,**  
**Jamie**


	18. Chapter 18

**So... this chapter is long.  
It's almost 3k words.  
I honestly have no clue what I was thinking when I made the outline.  
So many different things happen.**

**Things are definitely heating up in the plot.**

**We are reaching the climax!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter and be sure to let me know what you thought!**

**TW: Child Abuse**

**~TH~**

Jack folded the blanket as silently as he could. The microwave read 4:45. It was early. He didn't want to wake up Spot. Jack hadn't slept at all. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Snyder towering over him, on top of him.

He took a rushed intake of breath trying to get the image out of his mind.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Jack jumped and spun around at the voice.

"Sorry," Spot apologized, rubbing his eyes. "But seriously, you don't have to leave yet."

Jack didn't answer, smoothing out the blanket, "I didn't mean to wake you." He mumbled.

"You didn't," Spot yawned, "I have work. With football it was easier to work mornings, helping to stock and open. It's a routine. No use in switching now." He disappeared into the kitchen. "You never answered my question, where are you going?"

"School." He answered, not even sounding believable to his own ears.

"At 5 a.m.? The school building doesn't even open for over two hours. Try again."

Jack shrugged as Spot came back around with a mug of coffee.

"I dunno, I just, I need to get some things."

Spot's face immediately hardened. "No. You're not going back."

"Spot, I have to. I can't just run away."

"Yes, you can."

"You know I can't.

"I'm not letting you go back there." Spot was glaring at Jack, he wasn't backing down.

Jack sighed, "Listen, it will be quick. I'll go through the window. Get in, grab my bag and a new shirt, get out, meet you at school."

"What if he's in there?! Or what if he hears you?!"

"He won't! He was drunk last night. He's sleeping and not going to wake up. If I hear anything I'll get out, okay?"

Spot ran a hand over his face. "Fine. But you text me as soon as you get to school. I'm serious Jack. If I think you're in trouble I will call the cops."

"Okay. I'll text you. But I'll be fine." Really he was trying to convince himself of that. He knew that if he didn't go now, when Snyder was asleep, he would never go back. And that was just something he couldn't afford to do. Not if he wanted to keep Crutchie safe.

Jack made his way towards the door. He heard Spot sigh from behind him, "Jack wait."

He turned around, ready to argue with him when a maroon sweatshirt was thrown at him. "It'll do you no good if you freeze between here and your apartment."

Jack offered a small smile, slipping it on, "Thanks Spot." He meant it for more than just the sweatshirt.

~N~

He stopped in front of the apartment building, letting out a shuddering breath. He was going to be okay. His bag had everything in it. His sketchpad, his headphones, everything. He needed them.

Jack forced himself to go up the fire escape. Snyder wouldn't be there anyway. He would be asleep. He would be unconscious from all the alcohol. That was the only reason he had acted like that last night. He was drunk. It wasn't really his fault. Jack should have seen the signs, but he was too busy enjoying the silence to think much of it.

He peeked inside his window. Everything was as he left it. No one was in there. His eyes landed on the mattress shoved up against the wall and he felt his heart start to pound. He shook away the feeling.

Placing his hands on the window he pushed it up. His heart seemed to stop. It was locked.

His window was locked.

In the two years he had lived in the apartment the window had never been locked.

Jack couldn't breathe. He was locked out. If he were to go in, he'd have to use the front door. Snyder had locked him out. He knew he was going to come back.

He turned and ran the entire way back to the school.

~N~

Jack sat along the back wall of the school. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. He texted Spot, letting him know what happened and where he was. He hadn't responded yet.

It was cold. Jack hadn't noticed before now. He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. He wasn't going to cry. Not again. His reaction last night was childish. He was lucky Spot didn't throw him out right there. He had been nearly hysterical and it was ridiculous.

Once he'd had time to calm down, he felt embarrassed by how he had reacted. Getting out was one thing, it wasn't the first time he had run out on Snyder, but running to Spot? What had he been thinking?

He pulled the hood of the sweatshirt up. He was going to have to hide his face. At least until he could get in his locker and find the concealer he had there.

Even as he convinced himself that he was overreacting, he couldn't get the feeling to go away. The feeling of being touched. Of being pinned down. He hated being trapped. And being held down like that…

He gasped, covering his head with his arms. He needed to stop. Stop thinking about it. He was fine. He was out. He would be okay if he could just keep it together. He just didn't know if he could anymore.

~N~

There were too many people. Just, too many people. Jack kept walking, hoping no one would stop him. Just let him get to his locker before someone noticed him.

"Jack?"

Just keep walking. He'd be fine if he just kept walking.

"Jack wait!" Race caught up with him, walking by his side. "That's Spot's sweatshirt."

He didn't answer, just kept walking.

"Are you okay? What happened, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine. Jus' leave me alone, okay? I'm fine." Jack tried to push past him but Race grabbed his arm.

_Snyder grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the master bedroom._

"Don't touch me!" He yelled, jerking his arm away, "You don't have any right to touch me!" He panted, trying to regain his composure.

He could see the concern is Race's eyes. The way he looked at him, taking in his exposed face.

"Jack," Race said softly, "what happened?"

"Just leave me alone." His voice was strained, tears starting to prick at his eyes.

He turned and walked away.

~N~

Jack pressed the bottle tightly in the sweatshirt pocket. That's all that mattered. Getting to the bathroom. Putting on the makeup. Go about his day as usual.

He made it to the bathroom. It was empty. Good. He pulled off the hood. This was the worst his face had looked in a while. Especially with the bruises on his neck.

The bottle was mostly full. He typically used the one in his backpack for emergencies, this one was just his back up. He was glad he had it though because his backpack was locked in his house which he couldn't get to because the window was locked and Snyder was just waiting for him to come back so he could-

The bathroom door swung open behind him. Jack jerked his head up. His eyes found the intruder in the mirror.

"Jack?"

He sighed, of course it was. "David. Don't. Just don't."

"What happened?!"

Jack started applying the concealer the faster he could get out the better. "Nothin'. It don't matter. Drop it."

"Jack, you have a handprint on your throat!"

"It's none of your business Davey. I'm serious. I'm fine."

"Well clearly your not!"

Jack felt like banging his head on the wall. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? Why were people so interested in him all of the sudden?

"David, listen, I'm fine. Everything has been taken care of."

The other boy crossed his arms, "Then whoever did this to you is locked up in jail?"

"Everything's been taken care of." He repeated through gritted teeth.

"Come on, talk to me! Who hurt you?"

"It doesn't matter Dave!" He threw his hands in the air. "It don't matter. Okay? You got that? I'm fine. You're fine. We're all fine. So just leave me alone!"

David watched as Jack finished applying the concealer. He didn't say anything else. He didn't even move, making Jack feel extremely uncomfortable. As soon as he finished he stormed out of the bathroom. He didn't wait to see if David followed.

~N~

Jack did not want to talk to Race. He was tempted to just not go to Drama. How much more trouble could he be in? Skipping class seemed pretty minor at the moment. But Medda would worry and Spot would be upset with him.

He didn't make eye contact as he walked through the theatre. Jack felt Race's eyes on him. The kid never approached him, which Jack was thankful for.

His anger was gone now. It seemed to come in spikes. Right now he just felt… empty. He didn't feel anything. It was like all the rage, all the fear, every emotion that he had felt in the last twenty-four hours had disappeared.

Jack's only desire was to sleep. It wasn't even so much that he was tired, though he probably should be, it was just the idea of nothingness. Of not having to think. Not having to function. While he was awake his brain was always moving, never letting him have a moment of peace. Sleep didn't always let him get relief either. He didn't know what he wanted. He just wanted his brain to turn off and for the empty, almost inhuman, feeling to go away.

The backdrop was almost done. He should really work to finish it. He couldn't. He just stared. Stared at the warm sky and the open landscape. It looked so free. Not restricting. There were no places to be trapped.

Jack felt a pang of something in his chest and he wondered if he liked the numbness better. Because it hurt. The longing to be away, to be gone, it was there. To be anywhere but where he currently was.

"Jack?" The voice was cautious.

The older boy didn't turn around. He didn't jump at this voice. He just sighed. "Yes, Race?"

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry 'bout this morning."

Jack finally turned around, wondering if he looked as empty as he felt. "You didn't do anything. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Rough night?" Race tried to smile, but it didn't look very genuine.

"Yeah," he let out a breathy laugh, "Something like that."

"Spot, uh, Spot said that you stayed with him last night."

"Yeah."

"But that's all he said. He said that if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me."

Jack allowed himself a small smile. It meant a lot, the idea that Spot didn't tell anyone, even Race. "I-it's not that I don't trust you, I just-"

"You don't have to tell me. Just, I'm here if you need me, okay?"

"Yeah, I know." And he was surprised to realize that he truly did.

~N~

"No."

Jack spun around. "Spot?"

"You're not going home." Apparently Spot had been waiting for him outside of the school building.

Jack sighed, "I told you, I have to go home. You know that."

"You go back to that apartment and we both know that nothing good will happen."

Jack took a step forward, not wanting to risk someone overhearing them. "He wouldn't try something like that again. He'll be more sober. He had work today."

"Jack, stop defending him!"

"I'm not defending him! It's just, it's how it works. He's probably forgotten it even happened! He was drunk and drunk people do stupid things!"

"You're not going back."

Jack honestly didn't know what to say. "I have to go back eventually."

"One more night, okay? That's all I'm asking. One more night for him to cool off."

He let out a sigh, "Fine, one more night."

"Good. I have to stop by the store, I'll meet you at my apartment, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, got it."

Spot eyed him carefully before leaving.

Jack immediately headed towards his own apartment.

~N~

"What are you doing?" Race practically jumped out of an alleyway.

Jack gasped, nearly falling backwards. "What am I doing?! What are you doing?!"

"Spot told me not to let you go home."

Jack looked at him, "You're kidding me."

"Nope. I don't know what happened, but Spot said that it wasn't safe for you to go home."

"How do you even know where I live?"

Race scoffed, "You act like the office files are hard to get into."

Jack crossed his arms, "Listen Race, I'm not going to stay. I just need to get something. I need my bag, okay? Snyder doesn't get off work for another hour. He won't even know I was there."

"But Spot said-"

"Yeah, I know, I get it, but he's not home. Snyder can't hurt me if he's not there, right?" He wasn't even lying. He really just needed his bag. He didn't know what it was about it, but it was like he couldn't function without it. It had the few things he owned in it. He didn't like the idea of leaving it alone with the Spider.

Race looked at him, clearly debating. "Fine. But you text me when you get there and as soon as you leave. You've got fifteen minutes."

"Thanks, Race. I'll be right back." Jack smiled, running towards the apartment complex.

~N~

Jack stood in front of the door to his apartment. He felt frozen. He couldn't remember the last time he had used the door.

But it would be fine. Just grab his bag and get out. He sent a quick text to Race letting him know that he was there. He slipped the phone back into his sweatshirt pocket.

There was a key hidden under the mat, not original, but useful at the moment. Taking a deep breath, Jack pushed the door open. All the lights were off and there was an eery quiet. He ignored the fear that had suddenly appeared and walked in, shutting the door behind him. He locked the door back, knowing that he would be leaving through the window.

"Where did you stay last night?"

Jack froze in the middle of the living room.

"Mr Snyder-!"

"Weren't you expecting me? This is my house." The man said, rising from the kitchen table.

"I just, uh, I just thought that you had work today, that's all."

"I called off for a family emergency." He smiled. "You see my foster son ran out last night and I just needed to wait for him to come home. I was worried about him."

Jack took a step backwards. "I-I'm sorry."

"Answer my question, Kelly, where did you stay last night? It was in the twenties."

Jack couldn't stop the laugh, "That never kept you from kicking me out before!"

"You weren't on the roof. So where were you."

That sent chills down the boy's spine. Snyder had continued looking for him after he ran out.

"I, I just found an alley somewhere."

"Lies. Where did you get that sweatshirt?"

He needed to run. Maybe he could make it to his room? He needed to leave now before Snyder went any further. Spot was going to kill him.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Snyder's eyes lit up, he grabbed Jack by the arm and reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone before releasing his arm.

"Race? 'Good. Get back here.'" It continued to vibrate in the man's hand as he read the messages aloud. Jack took a few steps back towards his room. This was really, really, bad. "'Jack? Are you okay? Is he there? Answer me.' You have been talking to people! Is this where you were last night? Telling Race everything?!"

Jack turned and full-on ran towards his bedroom. He slammed the door shut and grabbed his bag. He tried to open the window, but it was locked. His hands were shaking. He needed to get it unlocked. The door banged open. He got it. Now push it open.

A hand was in his hair, pulling him back. "You think you can pull something like this and just run?" He screamed.

Jack flinched, his mind going back to the previous night, fear surging through him like never before.

A swift punch to the stomach had Jack gasping. He was thrown to the floor. Jack curled up to protect himself. A foot came down on his chest. He screamed as he felt something break. It didn't stop. He coughed, feeling something drip from his mouth. His hand came away red. He was going to die. This was it. He had been stupid. So incredibly stupid.

Snyder was yelling something, but he couldn't make out a word of it. It was just sound and lights and a foot coming towards his face and-

A final cry and everything went black.

**~TH~**

**Oof.  
Yeah...  
I said it was going to get rough!**

**Why Jack didn't just listen to Spot I can't even tell you (other than it makes the plot more interesting ;)**

**Please let me know what you think of this chapter!**

**The next one won't be from Jack's POV...  
That's one thing I can tell you...  
So yeah...**

**Leave a nice long review of what you thought and think will happen!**

**Stay safe my friends!**

**Gosh bless,  
Jamie**


	19. Chapter 19

**Sorry about the wait for this chapter. I actually finished it at 3am, but didn't want to post it until a slightly more awake me and my beta read it through.**

**I'm sorry for the cliff hanger last chapter but they are just so fun to write.**  
**(It's like the book 13 Reasons Why where every chapter is basically a cliff hanger cause you need to know WHY IS CLAY ON THESE TAPES... anyway...)**

**Please enjoy!**

**TW: Abuse**

~TH~

Race paced back in forth in the alley. He could see Jack's apartment. Why wasn't he back yet? Why hadn't Jack answered his phone?

He checked the time again, counting down the final few seconds. Fifteen Minutes. Time was up. He was going after him.

The apartment was old looking and it wasn't kept up well. Race stood at the bottom of the building. He probably shouldn't use the front door. Maybe the fire escape? He counted the windows, hoping he had the right apartment.

Race stood to the side, craning his neck to see if it was the right apartment. He'd just have to guess, but he didn't want to walk in on some random person's apartment.

His heart stopped. Jack was in the room. Lying on the floor. He wasn't moving.

The window was open a crack and Race wasted no time opening it the rest of the way. He ducked in and was at his friend's side in a second.

"Jack?" He said quietly, not knowing what to do with his hands. Did he touch him? Shake him? Would that just cause more problems? "Jack, come on, don't be dead. Please don't be dead." Spot was going to kill him. He never should have let Jack come back!

"Jack! Come on answer me!" The door to the bedroom was closed, but Race was still afraid of being too loud. He looked at his friend. His face was a mess, swollen and covered in bruises. And… there was blood coming from his mouth. This was bad. This was really bad.

Race put two fingers on Jack's neck and was relieved to feel a pulse. He had no clue what kind of pulse. Was it too fast? Too slow? Weak? He didn't know. All he knew was that there was a pulse."Come on, wake up!"

He couldn't breathe. Jack wasn't waking up. He may have been alive, but he was hurt. Bad.

Race was panicking. This was bad. No. Not now. He needed to focus. But how was he supposed to focus when there was blood all over Jack's face!?

He made a decision. Forgot promises. Forget everything. He pulled out his phone and dialled 9-1-1. His hands were shaking. This was bad. This was bad.

"9-1-1 what is your emergency?"

"I-I need an ambulance."

"Tell me where you are."

Race gave her the address. "I don't- I don't think he's breathing right.

"Okay," a calming voice answered. "Tell me what happened."

"I, I don't- there's blood coming from his mouth and I-I don't, I don't know what to do!"

"Okay, blood coming from his mouth, whose mouth?"

"My friend. He's hurt. Bad."

"Can you tell me how he got hurt?"

Race remained quiet for a moment. What was he supposed to do? To say?

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here."

"Okay, good, can you tell me your friend's name?"

"Jack, his name is J-Jack."

"And what's your name?"

"Tyler. Please, you gotta get here!" He was starting to cry. He couldn't cry. He needed to calm down. Just calm down!

"Okay, Tyler, we have someone on the way. Can you tell me how Jack got hurt?"

"I-I," He didn't know what to say. "I'm not supposed to tell you!" Stop. Breathe. Not now.

"Tyler, I need you to stay calm. Who doesn't want you to tell?"

"I don't- Jack- He- he made me promise." His free hand was gripping his hair. No. He needed to calm down. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe!

"Tyler, I know you don't want to tell me, but I need to know what happened."

Race shook his head. He couldn't.

"Tyler, I need you to talk to me. Who hurt Jack?"

"His, his foster dad. I dunno what happened! I told him not to go back!"

"Back where? To his house?"

"But he said he wouldn't be there. But he must've been because, because," Why couldn't he just be like a normal person and breathe?!

"Okay, it's okay, stay on the line. We'll have officers there in about ten minutes, okay? Can you hang on for about ten minutes?"

"I-I don't-"

Jack started coughing, red spewing out of his mouth. Race gasped, dropping the phone. He helped his friend sit up. He was nearly convulsing. "Jack, come on Jack, breathe for me."

His eyes blinked open and in a weak voice he whispered, "Race?"

"Yes, yes! It's me! We're gonna get you help, okay?"

"Chest... Hurts..." He mumbled letting his eyes slide closed.

"Nononono, come on Jack, keep your eyes open." He sniffled, relieved that his friend was awake but still scared because he was so… hurt.

"Tryin'. Why, why are you here?"

"I told you I would come after you if you took longer than fifteen minutes." He let out a half sob, half laugh. "What happened Jack?"

"I di'n know he was here. He was watin' on me." He leaned into his friend. "I thought he was gonna kill me, Race. He took my phone an'-" Jack's eyes widened and he pushed Race away, "You gotta go, you gotta get out'a here!"

"No!" he responded, "I'm not leaving you!"

"He'll kill you if he finds you!"

"You're crazy if you think I'm leaving you here with him!"

A muffled sound came from the phone.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Jack said, beginning to panic, More blood dripped from his mouth as he was overtaken by a vicious cough.

As soon as Jack had begun to breathe again, Race picked up the phone.

"Tyler? Is everything okay?"

"He- he's coughing, but he's awake."

"You called the cops!?" Jack hissed.

"I thought you were dead!" Race justified, still holding the phone to his ear.

Both boys stopped as they heard it. Footsteps. Angry footsteps.

"He's coming." Race whispered into the phone.

"Get out of here!" Jack tried a final time. "Please, jus' go!"

"I ain't leavin' ya!"

"Tyler," the voice was still calm, Race didn't know how. "Stay on the line. No matter what happens, don't hang up."

The door slammed open. Race put his phone down and slid it to the other side of the room.

"Ah. So you must be Race." Snyder growled, holding up Jack's cell phone. Race didn't know what he expected to see, maybe some kind of monster, or creepy old man, but what he saw was a well-dressed gentleman. The only thing that gave him away was the evil look on his face.

"Mr Snyder, p-please." Jack spoke up. "Please just leave him alone."

The man clucked his tongue. "Leave him alone? Maybe I'd be able to if you hadn't blabbed about everything!"

Race was tempted to shy away as the man got closer, but he wouldn't leave Jack alone. The older boy was propped up against him, too weak to sit up on his own.

"Leave him alone!" Race hissed, holding his friend closer to his chest. "Just leave him alone!"

The tears were dried now, but the feeling of helplessness was still there.

"I don't think I will." Race wasn't fast enough to stop the blow from coming down on Jack's midsection. He cried out, coughing up more blood. He'd already lost more than he should have.

Race didn't know what to do as he was grabbed by the arm and pulled into a standing position. Jack barely caught himself before hitting his head on the floor.

"My ward here wants me to leave you alone. And I suppose I can if you run home and never speak of this again. But if you say one thing to anyone I swear I'll-"

Sirens sounded in the background, coming closer. "You called the cops!" Snyder screamed.

Race gasped as Snyder shoved him into the wall. His eyes darted around the room desperately trying to find a way out. It had been a while since he was in a situation like this. A knife blade was pressed to his throat, causing him to go still with a stuttering breath.

"You called the cops on me, boy." Snyder spit in his face.

Race just tried to remind himself how to breathe. He needed something to distract himself. He needed something to do. Was that Jack's phone in the man's pocket? Could he get it without him noticing?

"Stop!" Jack called weakly, pushing himself onto unsteady feet. "Please,"

The older man didn't move, "Why should I?"

"You, you have time. They aren't here yet! You can still get away!"

Race pocketed the phone. It should not have been that easy.

Snyder turned his head towards Jack. "_I _can get away?"

Race could see Jack pale even more. "We, we can still get away."

"What?!" Race didn't know if he was angry or scared. "Jack, you can't!"

The blade was pressed closer to his neck and he could feel a trickle of blood. "This conversation doesn't concern you." The force of the words caused Race to close his eyes and stifle a whimper.

"I'll, I'll, go with you, just please, leave him alone." Jack managed a couple steps before falling to his knees, breathing hard.

Snyder loosened his grip slightly. "How can I trust you anymore? You only have a couple months left in the system."

"I'll stay!" He broke into a coughing fit, blood dripping from his mouth. "Please, I'll stay, just leave him alone!"

"You won't run?" Snyder was getting what he wanted. Race could see it in his eyes. He was excited at the prospect of keeping Jack even longer.

"No, I promise. I won't run, I won't talk to anyone. You can do whatever you want with me, just leave him alone. Please." Jack was crying. He sounded almost panicked. Race had only known him for a month and yet Jack was sacrificing his freedom for him.

"Anything?" Snyder smiled. Race struggled harder against the man's grip.

Jack looked even more terrified, his breathing becoming a little more erratic at the implication. Then his eyes met Race's. "Anything, just let him go."

"Jack, no you can't!"

Snyder removed the knife and threw Race to the ground. In one swift movement, he walked over and grabbed Jack by the wrist. "Then let's go,"

He jerked the boy up and Race could see all remaining colour drain from his face. Jack didn't struggle as he was dragged towards the window. Race got to his feet and started running towards the two. Snyder stopped, spinning them both around and placing the knife at Jack's throat. "Don't. I'd hate to have to kill him here."

Race stopped and watched Jack's face. He looked panicked, eyes wide and a gasping erratic breath. Whether it was because of pain or fear was anybody's guess.

Snyder turned and continued pulling his ward through the window.

**~TH~**

**Sorry... that cliff hanger probably isn't any better than the last...**  
**Same goes for the next chapter...**  
**Let's just say that we have to have a lot of angst before it can come down to comfort, okay?**

**I warned you guys there would be a rough couple chapters!**

**Anyway...**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Stay safe my friends 3**

**God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	20. Chapter 20

**So...**  
**The batch of comments I got on last chapter was just amazing and you all seemed super panicked which low-key made me laugh, so I decided to give you another chapter today lol.**  
**(In case you were wondering, I tend not to post until I get 5 comments on Ao3 and they came in really fast today.)**

**This one is pretty short, but it's still another chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

**TW: If you're not okay with some things by now you probably shouldn't be reading this story in general.**

**~TH~**

He couldn't breathe. His chest hurt. He couldn't get the taste of blood out of his mouth. Above all, he was terrified. Absolutely terrified.

Jack could barely support himself as he was dragged down the fire escape. Snyder might have been talking, but words weren't getting through. All he could hear was the rattling of his chest and the pounding of his own head.

Snyder stopped, pulling Jack close to his chest. The boys choked, feeling the arms tighten around him.

The blur of the world settled and he heard shouting. He blinked.

"Release the boy, now!" He heard a shout from in front of him.

Jack was being pulled backwards, held tightly in front of his foster father. The knife was placed back at his neck. He didn't care. Maybe Snyder would just finally finish him off.

"Stop!" This time the voice came from behind him.

Jack couldn't seem to keep up. Was he crying? Why was he crying?

"He is mine and I will keep him." Snyder growled moving the knife closer. The boy gasped, trying to breathe.

"Jack," the officer was talking to him. "It's going to be okay."

He wanted to believe it, but he wasn't sure that he could. The world was so fuzzy. Just sound and lights. And he hurt. He hurt worse than he ever had in life, and that was saying something. He couldn't stop the tears streaming down his face as the voices argued for him. He almost longed for the darkness. It wasn't like he could control anything. He never could. He had no control as his world spun out of control.

"Sir, release the boy!" the words broke through his haze. He looked at the man speaking. He looked familiar. Why did he look so familiar?

Snyder had pressed his back against the wall, Jack against him. There were officers on both sides of the fire escape. Jack didn't know if he should be relieved or scared. His eyes were closed now. He was just so… tired.

Race told him to stay awake, but Race wasn't here. And everyone was so loud and everything was blurry. There was no point in trying to stay awake.

"Sir, the boy is nearly unconscious. Please, let him go."

"Fine!" Snyder yelled.

Jack was shoved forward and felt himself collide with something. He should probably open his eyes to see what it was, but there was more shouting. Someone touched him. He could just let go and let him do whatever with him. Was there even a point of fighting anymore?

It didn't matter, his body reacted without him commanding to. He lashed out. "D-don' touch me!"

"Jack, come on son, open your eyes." It wasn't Snyder. He knew that.

It took too much effort, but he was able to blink his eyes open. There was only one officer now and he was crouched down beside him. Where was he? Oh, on the landing.

A gentle hand touched him, that didn't stop Jack from flinching away. He let out a soft whimper.

"I'm not going to hurt you, son."

"W-where's Mr Snyder?"

The man sighed, "He took off, but we have people after him, okay?"

"Mhmm," He murmured.

"Hey, Jack, I need you to keep your eyes open, okay?"

"'S' hard."

"I know, I know, we're going to get you help though, okay?"

"He-he'll come afta' me again. I know he will." Jack was just scared. Scared for himself, scared for his friends. Just scared.

"We won't let him. No one is going to hurt you." his radio went off and he was distracted for a moment, before his attention returned to him. "Jack, is it okay if I carry you down?"

"I don' need no one ta carry me." He mumbled. That was probbly a stupid thing to say. He wasn't even sure if he could stand at the moment.

"Then can I at least help you down?"

Jack closed his eyes for a moment. "Yeah."

The officer helped him to his feet. Jack's legs nearly gave out under him. "Hey," the officer said, wrapping his arm around him. "You sure you don't want me to carry you?"

"'M sure." He let his eyes slide shut. When he opened them again, he let out a cough. Blood spewed from his mouth. "Sorry,"

The man beside him looked concerned, "No, no don't apologize. We're going to get you help okay?"

It was slow. They spent most of it in silence, Jack just trying to breathe. "Who, who are ya anyway?"

"Mayer Jacobs."

Jack raised his eyebrows, "Davey's dad?"

"Yeah. You know him?"

"Mhm, we're doin' a project together."

Mayer stopped. Jack blinked up at him. "What'sa matter?"

"Nothing," They kept walking.

Jack let out a weak laugh, "He said you was a good one."

"Good one?"

"Cop. He said you was a good cop. Di'n think there was such a thing." He took a breath, "Sorry, porb'ly shouldn've said that."

"I've heard worse." Mayer smiled.

They were at the bottom. Jack felt himself slipping. Maybe he should have let the guy carry him.

"The ambulance is around front, okay?"

"'Kay," he mumbled, leaning further into the officer.

"Jack!" Race was running towards him, "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I-I don' actually know." that probably wasn't a good thing. He turned to the officer, "This is Race, he-he called the police." They made their way to the front of the building. Mayer dropped him off at the ambulance.

The EMTs started talking to him. He answered the questions the best that he could. Race stood anxiously beside him.

"I think that you may have punctured your lung, you'll be okay, but we need to take you to the hospital. Just wait here."

Jack closed his eyes.

"How ya feelin'?"

Jack grunted in response. He looked up and saw two officers walking towards him, Snyder between him.

His heart seemed to stop. "They got him." he breathed. Race looked up and breathed a sigh of relief.

Snyder had an angry glare on his face. He wasn't fighting, but he looked like he wanted to be. He was in handcuffs, being led towards the car. The world seemed to slow as he watched the scene. They were almost to the car. Then the man looked up and made eye contact with Jack.

The world seemed to speed back up, almost at double speed.

Snyder ripped himself away, he was coming towards him. Jack screamed before the man even reached him. Race looked up just as Snyder grabbed Jack by the front of the shirt. He pulled him to his ear, "If I can't have you, then no one can. "

A searing pain came through his middle and he screamed. He was released and saw himself falling towards Race. There were shouts and hands and then darkness as he was forced back into oblivion.

**~TH~**

**Y'know, I don't think I made it any better...**  
**Oh well, I already have the next chapter written, so, like I said, I'll post it tomorrow after five comments.**

**Let me know what you thought!**

**Until tomorrow!**

**Stay safe *hugs***

**God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	21. Chapter 21

**WOW**

**There were a lot of comments... sorry that this is out so late, but I woke up late and had stuff I had to do first... finally got a minute to post this.**

**Normal TW**

**Enjoy!**

**~TH~**

Race felt dazed. He heard the scream and felt the pressure. But it took him a moment to realize what had happened. The body was pulled off of him and he saw the blood. So much blood.

They were taking Jack. They had him in the ambulance. Race watched, not completely comprehending.

He couldn't breathe. He jumped when his phone vibrated.

Breathing heavily, he pulled it out. He answered it, but didnt get a chance to speak.

"Race? Where are you? Medda called me thinkin' I knew something. You just disappeared!" Spot sounded worried. He probably had a right to be.

The boy couldn't think. The words just came out of their own free will. "He stabbed him."

"What?"

"He- he stabbed him. And, and there's blood everywhere and, and, he just, just stabbed him!" He wasn't breathing again. He was having a panic attack.

Spot sounded almost as freaked out as Race felt, "Stabbed? Who got stabbed? are you okay? Where are you?"

"He, he, stabbed him!" Race's brain was going in circles. Not comprehending much of anything. "He was on top of me and there was blood and he just stabbed him. I wanted to stop him but I couldn't! I couldn't stop any of it! Spot! I couldn't stop it!"

"It's okay, it's okay. Race, I need you to tell me who got stabbed. Where are you?"

Part of the question bled through his frazzled mind, "Apartment. Jack's apartment."

"What?! But I told him-" He broke off bmid-thought. "Is Jack the one who got stabbed?" it was surprisingly calm, but Race could hear the fear behind it.

"His, his foster dad… I don't even know where he got the knife! He just, just, had it. And he stabbed him!"

"Where is he now? Is he still with you?" Spot sounded out of breath.

"The, uh, an ambulance took him. The, the cops got Snyder."

"Are the cops still there?"

Race looked around, noticing his surroundings for the first time since Jack had been taken away. An officer was walking towards him.

"Yeah,"

The officer squatted down beside where Race was huddled against a wall, it was the same one who had been helping Jack earlier.

"Hey there," he said with a smile.

Spot had gone silent, but Race didn't move the phone. "H-hey."

"Are you okay?" He seemed to be running his eyes over his blood soaked clothes.

Race nodded, "I's'not mine."

"You're Race, right?"

He nodded. "My real name's Tyler."

"Well, Tyler, I'm Mayer Jacobs. A lot has happened, do you need me to take you somewhere?"

Race didn't know what to say until Spot's voice came over the phone. "Give him the phone."

The boy held it out immediately, too numb to actually think.

The officer looked surprised for a moment before taking the phone.

"Hello?" He paused. "I'll take him there. Thank you."

He handed the phone back, "Race? He's gonna take you to the hospital. Wait for me there. I'm bringing you a change of clothes. When you get there, call Medda."

"O-okay."

"I love ya, Race."

"Love, love ya too."

The call ended and he put his phone away.

"Come on Tyler, you can ride up front." He smiled and motioned towards the squad car.

~N~

Race stared at his phone for a long moment. He paced a small path in front of an empty row of hospital chairs. There were a few people in the room, but they ignored him for the most part.

Finally, taking a deep breath he dialed Medda. It rang only twice before she answered.

"Race, baby, I've been so worried, where are you?"

He nearly choked."Uh, hey Momma. Sorry, I,I, know I should have called."

"It's okay, hunny. What's wrong?" She knew. She always knew when something was bothering him.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, "Uh, Jack, Jack's foster dad really went at him and he got hurt real bad. I'm at the hospital waiting, but, I,I, don't know much else right now."

There was a long moment of silence, "You just stay right there, baby. I'm on my way. Do you need anything?"

He shook his head before realizing she couldn't see him. "No, uh Spot is bringing me some clothes to change into. They, they-" he squeezed his eyes shut. "They have a lot of blood on them."

"Don't even worry about it, hunny. Just so long as you're okay."

"I am." _Mostly._

"Ok, well, I'm on my way. I love you baby."

"Love you too Momma."

The automatic doors swung open just as he hung up the phone.

"Race, you okay?"

Spot was there, wrapping his arms around him. He didn't even care if they were in public. Race wanted to say yes. He wanted to be okay. But he wasn't

He shook his head against his brother's shoulder. The height difference didn't seem to matter as he felt the strong arms around him.

The tears were threatening to leak from his eyes. He took a shuddering breath. "M-Medda's comin'."

"Good. You hear anything?"

He shook his head again.

Spot pulled away and handed him a bag. "Go change. I'll be here when you get back."

~N~

Race changed into the clothes Spot had brought him. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked tired. He felt tired. Everything was spiraling out of control and it was all his fault. If he had said something… told someone….

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Race sighed, leaving the bathroom. Medda was waiting for him when he got back. She held him for a long moment and he was just trying not to cry.

They waited a long time without news. Race filled them in on everything that had happened since he left the school.

Then a female social worker came up to them.

"Tyler?" She looked kind. She wore a professional black pencil skirt with a purple flowing blouse.

He rose to his feet. "Um, yeah?"

"My name is Lydia, I'm Jack's social worker. I was wondering if I could speak with you for a moment." She smiled.

Race felt his stomach tighten. No. Not alone. He was about to say something when Spot stepped in, shaking her hand.

"I'm Sean Conlon. I'm friends with Jack. My brother here doesn't really like talkin' to strangers by himself. Would it be okay if I came to? Promise I won't interfere with nothin'. But he won't go without me."

Race felt relief wash over him. Lydia watched Tyler's face then smiled an almost sad smile. "Of course, this way please."

Medda nodded at them and they followed her to a back room holding a desk and office chair, along with two fancy plastic chairs.

She motioned towards chairs and Race sat. Spot leaned against the wall.

"So," Lydia began, taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk. "I just have a few questions. Any answers you could give would help us sort everything out."

Race nodded. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this.

"How long have you known Jack?"

He shrugged, "Couple of weeks. Not long. Jack got moved to my drama class."

She wrote something down. "And when did you notice something was going on."

"Immediately I guess. I mean, I was at a pretty bad home last year… so… I guess… I didn't actually know. But I kinda had a hunch."

"And did you tell anyone?"

"Only Spot." He motioned towards his brother, "I think Ms Medda might have guessed too, but there wasn't much she could do unless he came to her."

"And he wouldn't?"

Race shook his head, "Even after… even after I saw… he still wouldn't let me tell. He got really upset about it. I don't know why…"

"His brother." They both looked up to where Spot was readjusting himself against the wall. "Snyder said he'd go after his little brother if he told anyone."

Oh. That made sense.

The social worker nodded. "Was it all.." she paused and pressed her lips together. "Was it all physical abuse?"

"I think there was verbal too, I've never actually been there… I mean… except for today." He shrugged.

She was about to say something when Spot interrupted.

"He never succeeded in anything else." His eyes were dark and angry.

It took Race a moment to realize what he was implying.

"What?!"

"Only once. Last night. First time according to Jack."

"Is that why he stayed with you?" That made so much more sense. Why Jack had been acting so weird throughout the day.

Spot bobbed his head once. "Told him not to go back, but he wouldn't listen."

"And you said it was only an attempt?" The social worker cut in.

Race saw Spot's eyes dart over to him as if debating if he wanted to say it in front of him. Race nodded. He didn't really want to know, but he needed to.

Spot sighed, turning back to Lydia. "His foster dad had him pinned against the bed. Jack kicked him and ran. Snyder tore his shirt pretty bad, but I think it freaked Jack out more than anything."

Lydia wrote in silence for several minutes. Race's mind was running wild. How had so much happened so quickly? It seemed to have escalated really quickly. If he had only told someone…

"Thank you." Lydia shuffled her papers. "All of this will help figure out how to best help Jack."

"Is he, is he okay?" _Of course he's not okay, idiot._

"He's in surgery now. His lung was punctured at some point. Then there is the obvious knife… there's not much else I can tell you right now, but I'll try to keep you informed as best I can. Thank you again for all of your help. You can go back to the waiting room."

Spot stood protectively behind him as they left.

"You okay?"

Race took a shuddering breath. "I'll, I'll be fine. I just… why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have really wanted me to? It wouldn't have made any difference."

"But… I could've, could've, told someone or not let him leave school. I knew he shouldn't have gone back, but I let him go anyway!" He wasn't going to cry. He couldn't. He was freaking out.

"Hey!" He was grabbed and spun around. "Tyler Antonio Higgins, this is in no way your fault, do you understand! If you had told it could have just made things worse. You did everything you could. You saved his life by calling the police when you did. Got it?"

The dam finally broke, tears flowing from his eyes as he nodded. Spot hugged him tightly and he wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. He didn't really care.

**~TH~**

**Not nearly as bad, right?**

**It's, not happy but it's not super angsty either.**

**I promise things will turn up eventually...**

**Even after I finish this particular story, I'm going to continue the series through one-shots and short stories. I might eventually write a sequel, we shall see. What I'm getting at is I will be taking requests both on here and on Tumblr, but it will be a while before I write them. Just keep following along and if an epic story plot pops up in your head for the future, let me know (pre OMY or post, whatever).**

**Thank you for reading and for your amazing comments!**  
**I still have to write the next chapter but will have it out as soon as I can!**

**Stay safe my friends.**

**God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	22. Chapter 22

**Here we are!**  
**Another short chapter.**  
**A lot of the upcoming chapters will probably be shorter as we work towards the end of this story.**

**TW: Ableist language**

**Please enjoy!**

**~TH~**

Spot looked at Race. His little brother was curled up in one of the chairs, his head on Medda's lap. Spot couldn't stay still. He was angry. He paced back and forth in the small waiting room.

He had told Jack not to go back. He'd thought that even if Jack didn't listen to him, he'd listen to Race. But he had gone anyway and both of the boys had wound up in a mess.

Race had been panicked, terrified, when he had called. That had made Spot nearly panic. He held it together though. He always did. That's who he was.

The story Spot had gotten from Race was frustrating. How could the police let a known abuser who was in their custody, get away? Especially when Jack was still on the scene? It didn't make any sense.

The last anyone had heard, Jack was in surgery. Poor kid couldn't catch a break. Maybe now things would get better for him. Assuming he survived this. Which he would.

Medda stood up from her seat. Spot and Race both looked at her inquisativly. "I have something I need to do, you boys just wait here." And she headed down the hall.

Spot sighed and sat in Medda's vacated seat. Race leaned into him. "Shouldn't we tell him?"

"Who?"

"Jack's brother. Doesn't he deserve to know? I'd wanna know." He said quietly.

That was actually a fair point. But, "Do you know his number? How could we get a hold of him?"

Race pulled out an old cellphone. "Jack has it in here."

"How," Spot's eyes widened a little bit, "how did you get that?"

"Grabbed it off Snyder."

Spot shook his head, "So you're telling me, that he had you against the wall with a knife, and your first thought was, 'let's pick-pocket him'?"

Race shrugged.

Spot laughed and ruffled his hair. "You're incredible."

"Should we call him?" Spot's smile dropped.

"Yeah, yeah we probably should."

"What do I say? I don't even know him. I've only ever heard Jack talk about him. Even that isn't often."

Spot sighed, "I'll call him. I talked to him once." Race looked at him, "It's a long story. Just give me the phone and I'll take care of it." He was handed the phone and made his way to the entrance. There was an area between the drop-off and the waiting room separated by glass doors on both sides. Private enough.

Jack barely had any contacts, only six. And the names were all fairly ambiguous. Like Kath, Davey, Spot, Race, and Spider. They didn't have photos or information, just a name and number. The bare minimum. Accept for Charlie's contact. It had a photo. A photo where Jack looked happy. Now that he had a closer look, it appeared that it was a picture of a photo. Probably from a while ago based off of how young both kids looked.

Taking a deep breath, he hit the call button and waited. It rang several times and Spot was beginning to wonder if anyone was actually going to answer.

"Hello?" A voice at the other end said. It wasn't Crutchie, that was for sure.

"I need to speak to Charlie."

"Why? You ain't Jack." The words were said with malice. Spot did not like this kid.

"No, but I need to speak with him."

There was a cocky laugh, "What, did Jack get himself arrested again? You callin' to tell the Crip the bad news?"

Spot was seething, "First of all, I don't think that's any of your business, second, watch what you call people."

"Yeah, whatever." The sound on the other end was muffled for a second, "You got a phone call ya lousy Crip." came a shout. Spot had to grit his teeth to keep from responding. It would do no good. No wonder Jack got kicked out. If Spot was there he would have pounded the kid by now. "He's comin'. Might take a while though."

The phone must have been set down because there was silence for several moments.

"Jack?" Spot's heart nearly broke at the question.

"Uh, no kid."

"Wait, are you that Spot from earlier?" He was worried. Probably wondering why he still had Jack's phone.

"Yeah."

"Why are you calling me? Where's Jack?" Spot could practically hear the panic rising. Best just to get this over with.

"Are you sitting down?"

'What, why?" Oh great. The kid sounded like he was going to cry.

"Are you sitting down."

"Tell me what's going on!" The poor kid was going to have a meltdown.

"Sit down and I will!" He took another breath, trying to calm himself.

"Fine, I'm sitting. Now what's going on"

"Jack got hurt." That was probably an understatement.

"Where is he? Can I talk to him?" Spot would have loved to talk to him too.

"He's uh, he's in surgery right now."

"What!? What happened?! Is he going to be ok?!"

"Snyder-"

"His foster dad?"

"Yeah, yeah, he, he hurt Jack really bad. But the police got him. He can't hurt Jack anymore."

"Will he be ok?"

Spot hated this. "Listen, kid-"

"No! Tell me if he's going to be ok!"

"I don't know! Okay, I don't know!" Spot exploded. His nerves were on edge. He was stressed out and he honestly had no clue if his friend was going to be alright.

"No!" Crutchie called out. "No! He's going to be okay, he's got to be okay!"

Spot tries to calm him down. "Kid, kid, calm down."

"No! Tell me he's going to be okay!"

"I can't." And he hated that he couldn't.

"What's going on here?" There was a new voice. It sounded like an older man. "Who is this?"

"Listen, I just thought he had the right to know!" Spot answered before he could even process what was going on.

"Know what?"

"His brother is in the hospital, okay? I thought he needed to know!"

"Jack? What happened?" Spot thought he detected a note of concern. Not sure why based off of what Jack had told him.

"I'll tell you what happened! After you decided he was too much of a hassle to deal with, he was sent to live with a man who made his life a living Heck. Today, that man finally snapped and stabbed him! Now Jack is in surgery and we're waiting to see if he pulls through! I sure hope you enjoyed your two years of peace without him!" He spat. He was sure that his face was red. He was boiling with rage. At this man, at Snyder, at the police, at all the adults who never cared or noticed, at himself for not getting Jack out sooner and honestly at Jack for going back and not letting people help him!

The person on the phone was silent for a moment. "I'll drop Crutchie off in the next fifteen minutes." Then the line went dead.

Spot leaned his head against the wall. It was going to be a long night.

**~TH~**

**There you go!**

**What did you think of Spot and Charlie? I for one, love them.**  
**I know he wasn't in it a lot, but poor Race is emotionally struggling.**

**And is Jack going to be okay?**  
**Hopefully?**  
**But how okay?**

**What do you guys think?**

**Anyway, please leave lots of comments!**

**Gosh bless (and please please stay safe),**  
**Jamie**


	23. Chapter 23

**H-hey guys...**

**It's been four months.**

**Wow.**

**I was writing every day at the begining of quarantine and then stopped writing almost completely for a while.**

**Anyway... I reread this story last night and reread comments and remembered how much I loved this story.**

**Thank you guys for being awesome!**

**Here's the chapter, not long but something!**

**TW: hospitals and medical talk**

~TH~

Race didn't like being alone. Sure there where nurses and other patients and people in the room. But in essence, he was still alone. He needed Medda or Spot or someone to be there, to remind him that he wasn't alone in this. His head knew that was true. He knew he had people who cared about him, but that didn't stop the feeling that he was alone. That nobody cared.

That this was all his fault.

He shouldn't have let Jack go back. It had been a bad idea. A really bad idea. Obviously. If he would have just told Jack no, or if he would have noticed that Snyder had gotten loose or if he had told someone sooner none of this would have happened.

"Race, baby,"

Race jumped at Medda's voice, she was stadning in front of him, a sad smile on her face. Jack's social worker was standing behind her, wearing a soft expression. A nurse was waiting by the hallway door, a clipboard in hand.

"Hey, baby," Medda started again, "Jack's out of surgery, I thought you might like to see him."

He nodded, not trusting his voice. Medda took his hand as they walked towards the hallways. Lydia contniued following at a distance. The nurse lead them through the emergency room and towards intensive care. He squeezed Medda's hand. Most kids woud be embarassed, Race was just happy to have someone close by.

When they reached the room, they stoppd ouside the door. It was dark and there was the sound of heavy weezing and machines beeping that carried out into the hall.

The social worker hung back while Medda and the nurse walked him in. Jack looked awful. He always looked bad but now he looked... awful. He was practically the colour of the sheet he was laying on. His face looked like one giant black and purple bruise, his eyes, even closed, where sunken in and without even the hint of makeup they where more purple then his normal pale complexion. A tube was shoved down his throat and there where wires everywhere. Up his nose, attatched to his arms, everywhere.

Jack's pale, white, arms laid unmoving on top of the sheets, an IV sticking out.

Race had forgotten how much he hated hospitals.

He took a step back, but Medda lightly pushed him forward. Race looked towards the nurse who glanced at Medda. When Medda nodded, the nurse began speaking.

"He has several cuts and bruises and multiple broken ribs. One of the ribs punctured his lung, that's why he was coughing up blood." Race nodded, remembering the blood that sprayed from his friend's mouth.

"Wh-what about the knife?" he said, his voice coming out quiet and shakey.

The nurse smiled compasionatly. "The blade wasn't very long. It went in on the side but by some miracle didn't hit anything. It's been stiched up and so long as it stays clean, there shouldn't be any lasting probelms. He got here fast enough that no permenant damage was done. Our biggest concern at the moment is the punctured lung. It wouldn't be so bad if he hadn't been stabbed. While the knife did't do too much damage, it caused extra strain on the lungs that caused the injured one to collapse. He's on a ventalter right now. It will help build up his bodies strength until he can breathe on his won again. Then we can start worrying about other things, like how malnourished he is. Right now our biggest concern is getting him off the vintalater and out of the ICU."

Race felt like his head was spinning. So much information that he didn't know how to process. There was just one thing he wanted to know.

"Is he going to be okay?" He tore his eyes away from Jack to look directly at the nurse. She still had that sad smile on her face.

"It will take time, but yes, he should be okay."

That's all Race needed to hear. He let out a shakey breath and took a tentative step forward, finally letting Medda's hand fall from his grasp.

"I'll be out in the hall if you need me, baby." Medda said before stepping out, the nurse leaving as well.

Race stood beside the bed. "Uh, hey Jack."

There was no answer, not that he was really expecting one, but still, it left him feeling uneasy.

"Listen I know we haven't been friends for very long, but, I mean, I just, why'd you have to go back in? I mean, I, I shouldn't have let you. I know that... but... I'm sorry." A small sob slipped past his lips. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean, but when I saw you, I-I thought you where dead and I didn't know what to do and it scared me!" He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm sorry, just, just be okay? You don't have to ever talk to me again, because I know you're mad, but just, be okay."

There was a quiet knock at the door, causing Race to look up. A kid he didn't recognize with blond hair and shining blue eyes was standing in the doorway. He had red crutches attatched to his wrists. Jack's brother. Charlie? Spot was standing behind him, arms crossed, trying and failing to not look worried.

Race couldn't help but stare and Jack's brother. They looked nothig alike. It wasn't because of physical features, it was just how innocent the kid looked. He had wide, searching eyes and a smoothe, oepn face, unlike Jack's who always seemed to look hard and guardered with clouded, angry eyes. While Jack, only a few years older, seemed hardened by the world, Charlie looked so optimistc. Even now in a hospital room, worry in his eyes, he looked so... pure. No wonder Jack had been willing to do anything to protect him.

The boy with the crutches took a small step into the room. Just then an alarm went off behind Race. He spun around seeing that Jack's eyes where now open and was shaking, fightig away the wire and invisible demons that surrounded him. There was no sound but Jack was clearly attempting to scream.

Race felt frozen, unsure of what to do. He could only watch with wide eyes as the quiet room became chaos.

~TH~

**Thank you guys for your patience.**

**I hope you enjoyed this!**

**Let me know if your still reading and what you thought of the chapter!**

**Stay safe and God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	24. Chapter 24

**This chapter was rough to write.**  
**If you follow me on Tumblr then you know I am not a fan of this chapter. I made it slightly more tolerable then my first draft, but it is still not my favorite.**

**But I hope you enjoy it anyway!**

**~TH~**

Race felt frozen in place. What was he supposed to do? Jack was… convulsing. Shaking the bed, trying to rip out tubes. Screaming voiclessly because a giant tube was shoved down his throat!

He heard commotion in the hall. Someone was coming. Thank heavens somebody was coming! But before doctors could reach the room Charlie had thrown himself towards the bed, taking his brother's hand.

"Heya, Jacky," the boy said softly. Too softly. Race could barely hear him over the shrieking monitors.

Jack's eyes flew to his brothers before widening. Race could see Jack tightly wrap his fingers around the offered hand. Charlie seemed to squeeze it.

The doctors had stopped in the doorway, the alarms shutting off on their own. They watched along with the two boys to make sure everything was under control.

"It's been awhile, huh?" the young boy continued, seemingly oblivious to everyone but the boy in the bed.

Jack gave a short nod, tears glistening in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you're hurt real bad, but we're gonna have a lot of time to catch up later. So just try to sleep, k? We'll talk when ya feel better."

The older boy didn't respond, but his eyes drifted closed, almost as if on command. The noise of soft footsteps filled the room as the doctors left.

Race watched as Charlie began to stroke Jack's hair, whispering to him. He thought the boy might even be crying.

A hand lightly fell onto his arm, and Race looked up. Spot jerked his head towards the door, signalling that they should leave. Race nodded following him out. He wanted to stay and be with Jack, but the brothers deserved some privacy.

The hallway had resumed it's quiet routine. Spot directed him to a small open room with lots of chairs, a TV playing quietly from the ceiling and scattered books and magazines. "Are you good?"

Race nodded, feeling the closest to 'good' that he had felt in a considerable time. "The, the doctor said he should be okay. It'll just… take awhile."

Spot nodded. He didn't say anything, but Race could see the relief in his eyes. Spot had always secretly been a big softy.

"Race, baby, could you come with me for a minute? I need to talk to you." Medda smiled from the doorway.

Spot offered him a half smile before motioning for him to go. Almost compulsively, Race through his arms around his brother. AFter getting over the brief shock, Spot returned the hug. "Y'know I love ya Tyler."

"Yeah, 'n I love you too."

Race allowed himself to smile as he followed Medda out.

~N~

Race sat down beside Medda in the small conference room. Lydia sat across from them.

"Race, you remember Jack's social worker?"

He nodded.

"Well, Tyler,"IShe began, "I was just telling your mother about Jack. It's obvious that he can't go back to where he was staying before."

That was for sure. Jack should never have to even see that Spider again. Ever.

"And we'd rather not send him back to the group home he was previously in, there were… issues there. It wouldn't be a safe environment to return to. There's other homes around the state we could send him to,"

"You want to send him away from the city?" Race felt himself begin to panic. He couldn't lose Jack. Not after everything that had happened! And Jack wouldn't leave Charlie. Not again. "And to a group home? But you just said it wasn't safe for him!"

"I know, baby, that's why I offered to take him in."

Medda's words caused Race to abruptly turn to look at her, eyes wide.

"Like, adopt him?"

Lydia gave a hesitant nod. "He'd be fostered. And because of his… history, things would probably be a little different, at least at first. It helps that Medda is already an established foster parent with a good record."

"So Jack would be my brother?"

"That's right, Tyler," Medda smiled, "he'd be your brother."

"What about Charlie?" He blurted out, not even intending to. It had been meant as simply a thought. But it was true. Jack needed his biological brother just as much as Race needed his foster brothers.

Medda cocked her head slightly, "Charlie?" RIght she probably hadn't met him yet.

"H-he's Jack's brother. They've been separated for awhile now and they…Don't… Like it." He finished feeling childish. All day he had felt so small. So childish. Maybe he was still in shock.

"Well," Lydia started slowly, "it's not common to keep siblings together-"

"But I'm sure we could figure something out. So long as I'm willing to take them both, there shouldn't be too much of a problem, right?" Medda seemed almost passive agressive in her statements, giving a condescending, tight lipped, smile.

The social worker nodded with a large probably fake smile. "Yes, I'm sure we can work something out."

A knock interrupted them and the door opened without bidding. Spot stuck his head in the door, keeping his voice low, he turned to Tyler. "Jack's awake and askin' for ya, Race. You need to come. Now."

Race didn't wait for permission before hurrying out of the room.

He practically fell into Jack's room. Sure he had been glared at by a few nurses but something was wrong and he needed to be there.

Jack was awake. It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. Jack's eyes were wild and he was fighting off Crutchie, trying to rise from the bed. There was a notepad on the table with "RACE?" written boldly across the page.

"Hey, uh, Jack, I'm right here. I'm fine. But you need to lay back down, okay?" His voice came out stronger than he had expected.

It took a moment, but Jack's eyes finally focused on Race and he immediately relaxed. With a nod from Charlie, Race made his way over to the bed, tentatively taking Jack's hand.

"Yeah, Jacky, I'm here."

The boy on the bed squeezed his hand tightly, tears shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm okay. But you need to get better, okay?"

Jack gave a tiny nod, still latched to Race's hand. Charlie took Jack's other hand and all three boys finally relaxed. Spot was smiling from the doorway.

Yeah, he really liked the idea of Jack being his brother. He basically already was.

**~TH~**

**Seeeee, I can end not completely depressing!**

**Be sure to let me know what you think!**

**I couldn't remember if Race would know that Charlie's name was Crutchie so I just had him use Charlie the entire time.**

**Also if Race acted kind of young or oblivious just blame it on shock, okay?**

**And yes, I know my hospital procedures were not perfect. Oh well.**

**Next we get to peek in on Katherine and Davey!**

**Till then!**

**Stay safe and God bless,**  
**Jamie**


	25. Chapter 25

**The wait was longer than I meant for it to be, but this chapter is fairly long so hopefully, you're not too mad...**

**I moved and will be starting college this week so if I'm a little slow at updating that is why. I will try to keep updating but we shall see how classes go.**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter!**

**As promised it's from Katherine's POV.**

**Just a minor warning that I get kind of politics at the end. It's nothing major or (hopefully) controversial but I didn't want you to be caught off guard lol. I didn't go as deep in as I could have but there's a bit in there. If you disagree, please no hate in comments. (I don't see this being a problem because ya'll are awesome but I feel obligated to say it.)**

**Enjoy!**

**~TH~**

Katherine paced back and forth in front of the library. Jack wasn't here. He wasn't here with that infuriatingly attractive grin or his obnoxious nonchalance. He. Wasn't. Here. He wasn't answering any of her texts. David had at least texted her that he'd be late. But no Jack.

She was torn. She was ticked to be completely honest. Bad home or no, this project was important. She needed him here today. Any other day she would probably be annoyed but no like this. Not with the uncontrollable anger and anxiety that came when a project didn't go right. But… she was scared too. Scared for Jack. Was he sick again? Like last time? He never seemed to really get better, maybe whatever sickness he had was still going on and he had passed out at home again. Maybe he was too sick to come to school and she would get a text soon. Maybe?

Katherine hated to admit it, but she liked Jack. Like LIKED liked him. That made her… uncomfortable. Jack was not the… boyfriend type. Not in the sense she was used to at least. He wasn't rich . He wasn't a family friend of her fathers. He wasn't the top of his class. He didn't go to parties. He wasn't popular. He wasn't much of anything, as cruel as it sounded. He was just a person. Just a boy with adorable dimples and surprisingly fun to be around when he wasn't driving her crazy with his secrets and distractedness.

It would never work out.

But she wouldn't mind getting to know him better. Maybe.

If he ever showed up!

"Katherine!" David was jogging towards her, pushing past the hallway goers with an urgency she didn't recognize.

"Have you heard from Jack?" She started immediately. "He won't answer me and I haven't seen him all day and he was supposed to meet us here! We present after lunch and we need his part of the project-"

"He's not coming." David cut in, looking distracted, his eyes darting around the hall.

"He's not- what do you mean he's not coming! We are supposed to present in less than two hours! He has to be here or we get docked points! And what about his painting! I can not believe this!" All concern she was feeling had now disappeared. All that remained was the anger and disbelief. Jack had bailed on them. Again.

David looked slightly panicked. "Katherine just, shh, calm down, I-" He grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into the library. She allowed him, too shocked to say anything, as they made their way to a back, rarely used corner.

They stopped, Katherine looked at David quizzically and he just looked nervous back. "Spot was right." He finally says, his voice quiet and holding a weight Katherine couldn't quite figure out.

"What do you mean Spot was right?" Still feeling too angry to put the pieces together.

"About, about Jack. And about him… about his injuries not being his fault."

She sighed at how crypicic he was being. "David what are you-" Her mouth stopped moving as her brain finally connected the dots. Jack didn't keep getting hurt, someone was hurting Jack. Jack didn't get into fights. Someone was intentionally beating on Jack. And that sickness that never really seems to get better… bruises aren't typically part of a sickness and it wasn't like he had been coughing or sneezing. Someone had been hurting him. Someone was causing him pain and she didn't notice. And she called herself a reporter.

"Someone's hurting him." She finally whispered, looking into David's eyes and hoping she was wrong. Instead he nodded. "Who?" she asked.

"His foster dad." the words were spit out with more venom than Katherine could ever remember hearing. "He's been hurting him. Bad. I think Spot knew. Race too. I… I suspected but…" He trailed off.

Katherine was angry again. But now the anger was not focused at Jack but at his foster father. "We need to do something!"

"I-it's too late." David said, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. He leaned his forehead on his knees.

Katherine felt ice pierce through her heart. Wait. He wasn't…. Dead? No. It couldn't have gone that far…. Right? There was no way that…. Not now. WIthout her noticing.

She slid down beside David feeling overwhelming guilt for every unkind word and thought she'd ever had towards him. "I-Is he…?" She had to ask. Had to know for sure…

"He's alive. Apparently his dad got bad. Really bad. Race was there. Called the police. My dad… apparently it was bad. But he-he stabbed him, Jack. He's in the hospital right now. It's… bad." He paused. "I overheard my dad talking to my mom about it… Race texted me but only said Jack was in the hospital. But what my dad was talking about… it… sounds… bad, Katherine. Just… I can't imagine… living like that. Barely eating, barely sleeping, being some old man's punching bag…. And they found a closet with a lock on it. The walls had… scratch marks like someone had tried to… claw their way out. I just… I don't know what to say."

Katherine had never felt so awful in her life. She had accused Jack of being lazy, of not caring. Everything… made so much sense. How had she not noticed? All those comments about freedom. About things she had assumed were references to third world plights but where his personal cry for help. A cry for help that she had ignored. She claimed a crush on a guy that she had watched be abused while she sat back and complained about him missing meetings.

"The project is in the drama room." David cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. "We should go get it."

"Are we… presenting today?" She suddenly didn't want to. What she really wanted to do was to visit Jack. To see him. Make sure that he was alive, breathing. To say she was sorry for every unkind word.

David didn't answer, staring at the opposite wall. "Yes," he finally said, "but not the way we have it now. Come on" He said standing up and reaching his hands out towards Katherine. "We need to hurry if we want to get it done before class."

~N~

Katherine had never been so nervous in her life. She stood beside David as he shuffled hastily written notecards. The teacher was looking at them with a slightly disappointed look. Last minute really wasn't their thing.

"Freedom," David began, "Our topic was freedom. What is freedom? Who is free? Are all Americans free?"

"Our group was assigned three people." Katherine stepped forward. "You'll notice that there are only two of us here."

David nodded, "And you could throw a million different reasons out there. Some might assume it's laziness. Some might think illness. There's many reasons, both valid and unvalid, to miss such an important assignment. But there's truly only one right reason."

"He wasn't free to come." Katherine felt something in her heart break along with her voice. "He couldn't. Because we think in our upper or middle class way and assume everyone is like us. We assume that everyone has enough money. That everyone can come and go as they please. Sure we might have differences, but at the core, we all have the same advantages."

"But it's not true." David sounded upset at the admission. "It's not. Yes America is free. Yes we have freedoms. But not every person is free. Some sleep outside during a New York winter and hope for the best. Some eat only what people throw in the trash or what they are able to steal without getting caught, or what they get in the free lunch program. And some…" he wavered slightly. Katherine watched as he swallowed and took a deep breath. "And some live with people… with parents, with guardians, with relatives, that say they can't leave the house. They do things to them that we can't even imagine because our lives are great, so is't everybody elses?"

"Freedom isn't something everyone has, regardless of where they live. Being in America doesn't guarantee freedom. Some people are living in captivity even in plain view. Some people have been hiding for so long that we look at their glass prisons and assume it has a door. We assume any mess they are in is because of their own stupid mistakes. But that's impossible. Because they never had the freedom to make those decisions. And that's on us. That's on us." She whispered the last part, feeling the weight of the words sit heavy on her chest.

David picked back up, his voice slowly breaking with every sentence. "Freedom. Something that we all take for granted. We may complain that our parents give us 'no freedom'. That this school is a prison. But we have more freedom than some people have ever known. You have three meals a day, sometimes more. You have a house. You have the right to do your homework. You have the right to not be hit. You have the right to decide what happens to your body." He broke off.

"And if you don't have those freedoms." Katherine had never felt so strongly about anything in her life. If Jack had only told someone sooner... If she had only noticed… "There is help. Talk to a teacher you trust, or to the principal. Talk to one of the counselors. Call the police or social services. Even an abuse hotline. Don't suffer in silence. Because…. Because when you wait for too long sometimes…. Sometimes it becomes too late."

"Pay attention to those around you." David again found his voice. "Look for those without freedoms. You may be the only way they'll get freedom. Don't let your friends…. Suffer just because, because you're scared or because you are oblivious or because you just want to ignore it and move on with life."

Katherine nodded, feeling overwhelmed with guilt. "It could make the difference between someone having freedom and someone living in captivity in their own home. It could… it could be the difference between life and death."

"Freedom," David's voice had strengthened, sounding so forceful that he barely sounded like himself. "It's not guaranteed. Sometimes you have to fight for your own freedom. Sometimes you have to fight for others. But what are we if not standing for each other? If we sit around and expect the adults to fight for our freedom in things like this they can't. They don't see what we see. They see us in a classroom, but they don't see the way they flinched when you patted them on the back. They don't notice that they wear the same clothes everyday. They may not even see them in class everyday. But you do. You see and you can help. We have to help. We have to ensure freedom for not only ourselves but also for others."

Katherine looked imploringly at the class. "This is not what we had written." She glanced towards the teacher. "We have an entire other project written and planned. But it seems so miniscule. So unimportant. Because what is a paper outlining American freedom when some of the people in this very school don't have it. Why talk about freedom of assembly when some people are being locked in their houses with no outside contact. Why discuss freedom of speech when some people have their every word monitored and are punished for even a slight disagreement of ideas. Why praise freedom of consumption when not only are people not able to choose what they eat, but they aren't even sure if they'll be able to eat. Why boast in a freedom that some Americans, while some students at this very school, have been living without even the most basic of freedoms."

The class was staring at them with open mouths. No one made crude jokes in the back. No one was making under the desk texts. Only wide eyes, some with tears. There were a few people staring at the desk Jack usually sat in. Maybe they had noticed too. Maybe they had made assumptions. Maybe they didn't care. Maybe they were just now putting the pieces together.

David ripped the covering off of the painting. There were gasps as the beautiful work was unveiled. An eagle, breaking through its cage and making its way towards a clear blue sky. A picture of freedom.

"Jack made this." He said. "Because sometimes no matter how bad things are on the outside there is still beauty on the inside. And maybe we shouldn't underestimate people based on what's on the outside." He took a shaky breath. "And th-that's all."

The bell rang. No one moved. Katherine picked up the painting and walked out the door, unable to take the stares any longer. David followed her out.

"Do you think she'll fail us?" he asked, looking uncertain.

"I don't know," Katherine stopped, looking him directly in the eyes. "And honestly, I don't care."

He smiled. "So long as we're in agreement."

It was funny. Her grade was hanging in the balance and yet she had never felt so at peace.

**~TH~**

**Well there ya go!**

**Please let me know what you thought as this chapter took forever to write (actually editing is what took forever but still).**

**Next week we will get back to Jack!**

**God bless and stay safe,**  
**Jamie**


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